by LJ Davies
Hesitantly I turned, peering into the chamber’s pitch-black depths. A cool breeze escaped the gloom, the scene enough to release more uneasy thoughts.
This certainly doesn't look like the type of place someone wise resides.
No matter how much I trusted them, a part of me still believed it might be a trick. I certainly didn't want to believe that, however, the thought that I could be walking into a trap lingered.
If this is the only way to save Tarwin, then I have to do it.
Putting on a brave face, I took a long, deep breath and took a few cautious steps. No sooner had I entered, than the door began its cacophony, protesting angrily as it slowly and unnervingly ground to a close behind me. I jumped at the final slam, and the eerie silence left behind when the symphony of shifting locks ended, making my scales crawl. My eyes and other senses adjusted to the darkness as I scanned for any clues about the chamber in which I was now imprisoned. Shadows concealed all detail; the only thing telling me I wasn't lost in endless blackness was the invisible surface beneath my paws.
Fear started to consume me, strengthening my growing concerns that I shouldn’t have been so trusting.
I shouldn’t have listened to someone I hardly know. I'm such a fool!
Until now I had been sure they held nothing against me. No! No, this can't be a trick, there's got to be something!
I was beginning to have serious doubts about the Elder’s existence when flames exploded into life on either side of me, and with a swift whoosh a series of braziers ignited, revealing a pathway stretching out before me. Light blossomed from the flames, quickly vanquishing the darkness, revealing thousands of wall carvings.
I swallowed my apprehension. No going back now, certainly not with a door like that behind me.
I cautiously followed the newly-lit path towards a circular platform surrounded by a deep pit, its vertical stone sides descending into crushing darkness as if light itself feared to venture into the depths. On either side stood four large pedestals, each one topped with a decorative band of gold inscribed with more markings.
More braziers burst into life, illuminating the whole chamber, revealing a large, domed roof and more carvings. The symbols and the surface into which they were inscribed looked old, appearing like more natural stone.
More images of dragons sat amongst even stranger beasts clad in regal armour. Others were short and stumpy, with large beards sprouting from their chins. Some were like me, with feathers rather than scales, while others looked humanoid. As my eyes began to scan the walls, I began to feel the presence of something – or someone – sitting above me.
Four watchful pairs of eyes cast their gaze down from the tops of the stone pillars, their draconic owners as ancient as the cave itself. Their scales were dulled and scarred. Age had ravaged their bodies, ranging from rips in their wings to snapped horns and clouded eyes. They all wore a gold brace around their neck, each one bearing a single crystal, the colour matching that of its owner's subdued hide. Their finer features were hard to make out in the low light, but what was clear was that they were considerably older than any other dragon I'd encountered. None of them had any discernible expression as they silently judged me.
I fought the urge to fidget and squirm, their gazes felt like hot beams of sunlight on my scales. Then after what seemed like the longest period of silence I'd ever endured; the red dragon spoke.
"Who are you?" his croaky old voice questioned.
It took a moment for me to process his words. I knew that all I had to do was tell them my name, but I was struggling to find my voice. My nerves were on edge and I certainly wasn't expecting four of them, added to that I still wasn’t confident about speaking.
What if I accidently offend them? Or they find out what Tarwin really is?
"Blaze," I replied, trying hard to bury my nervousness.
"And, Blaze, why have you come here?" the blue dragoness beside the red-scaled Elder enquired.
Wait a minute. I thought they were the ones who asked for me.
I thought hard about exactly what I should tell them. Part of me wanted to demand why they were asking me questions, especially when my whole body was bursting to ask them so much. A combination of fear, respect and not knowing the full extent of what was going on stopped me.
"I was brought here by two others, they said you asked for me."
The four of them looked as though that was far from the answer they expected. A long pause met my response; it almost felt like they had forgotten I was there, when the red dragon spoke again.
"And how did you end up here?"
My initial fear started to subside, giving way to irritation. I'd expected something more from someone with the esteemed title of ‘Elder’. Anyone with such a status shouldn't need to ask such simple questions. The ones back in the village always seemed to know what was wrong, without needing to, though quite how they did so was beyond me.
These elders should be at least four times wiser than a single village elder. Then again, what did I know? Perhaps their questions were part of a much greater method of assessing the situation, beyond that of a human mind, or they were just as in the dark as me. It certainly felt like the latter, leaving my frustration to smoulder.
I'd no alternative other than to explain to them how my friend and I, who I referred to as a ‘dragoness’, as Risha had suggested, were out hunting when we were attacked by two creatures.
"The other dragons I met called them wyverns," I added, finishing my lengthy explanation before taking a well-needed break.
The Elders’ faces still lacked emotion but the atmosphere of the chamber had changed. A feeling of doubt and foreboding took hold, much to my disappointment. Then the red dragon looked back at me and continued.
"Where is this friend of yours now?"
With my patience stretched, I answered abruptly. "She was taken by one of those monsters!"
The four dragons looked across to each other again, as if communicating without words.
"Well? Can you do anything?" I pressed, my patience near breaking point.
The blue dragoness lifted her head and directed her eyes toward me.
"We’re sorry, there is little hope for your friend."
I froze, mouth agape as my words died.
Her words struck like a cold knife had been thrust into my heart. Every one of my hopes exploded at the thought – how can they tell me she's gone?
My patience shattered. These so-called ‘Elders’ were certainly not what I imagined. Were they just going to apologise and expect me to give up? It felt like they weren’t listening, and with the fire of desperation overwhelming my hopelessness, I was unwilling to accept their judgment.
"Please…" No matter my inner conflict, the word slipped out as a whimper. "You can't just expect me to give up on her."
The red dragon peered down, his cloudy eyes bearing no sympathy.
"Listen closely, young one." His wise tone sounded like Tarwin's when reading her stories.
"These are troubled times; an age of relative peace is regrettably fading. For the creatures you speak of are a sign of darker forces at work. Evils thought destroyed long ago."
He glanced at his peers and for a moment I swore I saw a glimmer of unease on their stoic faces as he went on.
"Wyverns are savage beasts. The kind you describe could only be servants of the last Dark Guardian, Acrodan."
What is this? Do they really believe after living in this world for thirteen winters I wouldn't notice any of this stuff?
Admittedly, I’d no concept of anything beyond the forest until a few days ago, but I think someone in the village would have known if something was going on. For a moment, I wondered if anyone did know. Then my thoughts turned to Tarwin's father.
I'd never understood what he was really protecting her from or why he always assumed that the rumours had more truth to them than she did.
But if he knew, why keep it a secret?
That didn't matter now, all I
wanted was to get my friend back – and this meaningless conversation wasn't helping.
I averted my gaze from the judgmental stares of the presiding dragons, my mind still heavy with the thought she might be gone.
"Who's Acrodan?" I asked. Not really understanding the relevance of the strange name.
The four dragons looked as if they'd expected me to already know, before the red dragon spoke again.
"Acrodan is the last of nine guardians tasked with protecting the Sphere of Eternity."
Once again it was like they expected me to understand and believe their utterly alien history.
"And... what's that?" I asked, trying to go along with his nonsense. For a moment I was certain the otherwise emotionless dragons looked confused; they really weren't expecting me to be so ignorant.
"We will tell you," the blue dragoness stated, looking over at her red-scaled companion who gave a nod before he began.
"One thousand years ago, in a time of peace and prosperity, the creators of old gave our ancestors a gift from the Golden City, an artefact they called the ‘Sphere of Eternity’. Prophesy told it was a relic of great power, and that we were required to gather nine of the strongest mortal souls to watch over it."
His eyes drifted toward the ceiling, where the image of a great spire falling from the stars was carved into the stone.
"The nine great races of the old world brought forth their finest, each of them chosen by tests and trials until only the best remained. Acrodan was one of the nine chosen to fulfil this honourable duty. He and his eight companions took the sphere up into the most northerly reaches of the world, where even the most powerful would not seek to find it."
His eyes passed to carvings of dragons and other creatures, some very clearly human, before he looked down to where the image of a city of spires, waterfalls and cliffs were etched into the rock.
"For over two hundred years, they watched over it within the temples of Ilivar, its immense power sustaining the lives of the lesser races whose bodies were unable to withstand the passage of time. The union of the nine strengthened the bonds of the old alliances, ushering in a great and peaceful age."
Following his directions, I glanced to where the roof depicted dragons, humans and other feathered beasts flourishing under a gleaming sun.
Everything seems so happy. How could I have not known any of this?
"We were all deceived, for the more power one holds, the more it can corrupt their soul. The unknown truth was that the sphere contained a dark power so great to be beyond that of even the gravest nightmare. Power enough to twist the minds of those chosen to protect it. The sphere slowly worked its evil, poisoning the great and honourable against each other. By the time they or anyone else realised, it was too late."
The next set of carvings showed just that. Nine beasts of varying races. From dragons, to human and many others, engaged in brawls and savage duels.
"The guardians began to fight over the very power they were sworn to protect. Driven by greed, temptation and ambition. War among those that survived the initial conflict soon followed, each using their powers to destroy the others, reducing the northern lands and all who dwelled there to ash."
There was another carving of the majestic city, only this time it was ablaze and swarmed by battling monsters.
"Hinnoron, the most powerful and bloodthirsty of the nine, lay siege to the northern world, bringing to ruin the great cities of Taldran and Mordrin, with Acrodan at his side. The dark sorcerer was undoubtedly the most cunning of the few, using Hinnoron as easily as he did his other brethren. He always seemed to have the closest connection to the sphere, becoming the most corrupted by its influence. He gained unspeakable powers, most so horrific that words cannot describe. The third guardian to survive was Lamia, the dragon guardian, the dark serpent queen of the Ebon sovereignty."
Three figures were carved into the wall. A hooded man with no face. A tall, humanoid figure in spiked armour and a sleek dragoness with wings spread to blot out the sun.
"Their war spread quickly, setting the rest of the world ablaze with swathes of raw hatred and vicious bloodshed. The once noble paragons lay waste to their own people, slaughtering those who wouldn’t join their cause, razing their homes to the ground in storms of fire."
All those carvings depicting war now made sense, sending a chill down my spine as I realised how casually I'd dismissed them before.
"Thrown into the warped claws of chaos, the once peaceful races tore each other apart, each choosing sides as the sphere's influence seduced them all. Some stood alone, choosing not to follow the dark path, outgunned and outnumbered a hundred-fold. As for the creators who'd cursed them with the sphere. They'd all but abandoned the world to its fate."
More carvings of war met my wandering eyes, battles so great they filled whole archways and crevices.
"Over time, fouler, darker creatures crawled forth from the cursed depths, monstrosities that had no place in the peaceful realm of the past and which relished the chance to see darkness take hold. The newly risen horrors chose their leaders, and the great armies of the Dark Guardians were bolstered beyond recognition. Monstrous titans of warped stone and scorching balefire, horrific engines of war belching smoke and flame stood above endless ranks of corrupted beast-men and horrors from an ancient world of living dead. Whether they knew it or not, they were all ultimately consumed by the sphere's influence, their minds driven to its destructive goal."
The next carving showed just that. Snakes of magma, towers of bones and hulking brutes with wings like ferocious gargoyles.
"What remained of the pure dragons rallied what few allies they had left and in the final days of the Guardian War they led a desperate attack into the heart of the massacre, where the three armies of the Dark Guardians clashed. The four Elders of fire, earth, wind and water along with Sovereign Aria, founder of the elemental orders, led Dardien's army into battle. The four mighty forces ultimately clashing upon the rain-swept fields of the Midnight Plains, each desperate to gain sovereignty over the sphere’s power, or to see its destruction."
The Elder didn't even need to direct me to the mighty scene carved above his head. I clearly saw the depiction of a battle to end all battles. Dragons, humans, wyverns and a whole manner of monsters clashed below the image of two armour clad duelling dragonesses.
"The battle was long and fierce, with blade, tooth and claw alike spilling blood over the sodden grounds. Skies obscured by the battle of winged horrors and flying beasts, the clouds themselves bled and the bones of the earth were broken. Magic of all forms skewered the storm-filled night and the dead rose from the ground. After days of endless bloodshed and Sovereign Aria’s heroic loyalty, two of the Dark Guardians fell. Hinnoron was slain upon her golden talons, as was her corrupt sister."
I glanced down to the wall behind the Elders, to where the same dragoness stood triumphantly over the bodies of her foes.
"With two of their leaders slain, the cowardly armies were soon annihilated and forced back into the pits from which they crawled. Acrodan escaped in the wake of the final confrontation, his long-sought prize in his possession. With his dark army all but decimated, he fought his way north, taking the sphere back to the ruins of Ilivar."
The burning city that had been depicted before was back, only this time it looked to be more frozen than ablaze.
"There he began to recuperate and with the sphere in his possession, his power was limitless. Slowly but surely the cold of his black heart became manifest, fuelled by the inconceivable darkness that had completely consumed him. The northern ice grew outwards, creating the frozen arctic. Acrodan and the sphere have been trapped within Ilivar’s ice ever since, while the possibility that he and the sphere would one day return has been a constant threat."
The last of the guardians, the faceless man, was depicted in a tomb of solid ice, the dark orb suspended above his outspread arms.
"It took a long time for the world to recover, and when it did, it wasn�
��t the same. The trust between the races was shattered, those who were once allies soon turned on each other. In the wake of the Guardian War many others were fought until an age of relative peace began and has stood firm for over one hundred years."
My legs felt like they'd become jelly. My neck strained from all the glancing around. Inevitably I sat down, tail coiled around my hind paws as the Elder went on.
"With the time of the creators ended, those who remained viewed their so-called ‘gift’ as a curse, a way in which to punish them for straying from the gods' divine path. Many forgot the worship and ways of old and the ancient ancestors of gold, eventually transforming into their own beliefs and breaking down what was left of the unity that once stood for millennia. No one, not even we sat before you, know of the mysterious ages before the sphere’s corruption, and few wish to remember the horror of its passing."
Each of their emotionless faces peered down at me as the red-scaled storyteller finished.
"We retain the ancient teachings of our creators, when all others choose to forget. We’re moving into an uncertain future, a future in which the horizons now carry the skies of war."
I peered up aimlessly, with no idea what to say. They'd given answers, of sorts. However, it told me nothing of immediate importance, to my thinking it was just an incredible history lesson about long-forgotten wars. I’d no idea what relevance this had to me, but if this was all they were going to tell me, I wasn't wasting any more time.
"That's... interesting," I replied, trying not to offend them with my initial disappointment while carefully considering my next question. "So how does any of that help my friend?"
"What you must understand is that wyverns were among the spawn to serve the Dark Guardians, thought to be destroyed when their armies fell. Their return marks a far worse reality for what lies ahead." The blue-scaled dragoness answered in place of the red-scaled Elder.