The Roar of a Dragon (14 page)

And now, three thousand years in the future, knowing what happened to them… it
hurt
.

Oh no — Garridan — Derrick!

I tried to recuperate as best as I could, as I realized that I was the one whose mind had now trailed off. ‘So what happened after that?’ I asked, after taking a deep breath.

‘Well,’ Timor said, ‘you may find this hard to believe, but what happened in Delmar went virtually unnoticed by the rest of the world for almost an entire year.’ Timor went on, not noticing that my eyebrows had risen in disbelief. ‘What happened in Delmar took place silently. Then, it began to happen in more cities, then more, then more, and by the time the world finally took notice and began to do something about it, it was too late. It didn’t help that when the people were ready to fight back, they really didn’t know how, the threat being one they had never seen before. Eventually, the world became overwhelmed, either by transformation or in battle.’

I was silent as I continued to try and absorb all of this, but it was far too much at once. Even if it wasn’t, I doubted that I would have been able to handle it. My thoughts bounced between my own trials, the people of Delmar, Derrick and Garridan, and the plights of the world in general.

‘So why don’t you tell me about your death?’ Timor asked, his tone stunningly casual.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, that he could bring up the subject so easily without any idea that… well, I might not want to talk about it, to put it nicely.

‘Excuse me?’ I asked, trying to keep my temper in check.

‘Tell me about your death,’ Timor said, his tone still conversational. ‘Tell me about the attack, and what happened as you died.’

I knew, right away, that he was simply curious, that he was just looking for information. And probably, due to what I assumed what his lack of experience in dealing with people, he didn’t know to be a little more —
compassionate
— when dealing with a situation like this.

Still, my irritation was beginning to reach a fever pitch. Thankfully, Iskandor stepped in before I could explode.

‘Timor, my friend, that subject is likely to be a bit sensitive for Aidan. You may want to approach it more delicately.’

‘Oh,’ Timor said, obviously struggling to figure that out. ‘I apologize, Aidan… I’m really not good at this kind of thing.’

‘You don’t say,’ I muttered. Another pointed glance from Iskandor put me back on track; I took a breath before I answered, recollecting the painful memories.

‘I was exiled for saving Iskandor from my fellow soldiers. Norvin’s men dragged me to the border, beat me, and then Norvin stabbed me with a dagger, saying that he couldn’t have me starting a rebellion.’

I heaved a sigh, and then thought for a moment, trying to remember. ‘I saw a bright light, and then I heard a dragon roaring. It was Iskandor.’ I glanced at the great blue dragon.

‘Hmm,’ Timor was deep in thought.

Suddenly, another thought occurred to me. I turned to Iskandor. ‘How is it that you were there when I was attacked?’

‘I had heard what happened to you in Delmar,’ the great dragon said. ‘I had been following you for quite some time.’

I was surprised. ‘Following me? Why? And how is it that I didn’t see you?’

‘We dragons have a way of following without being seen,’ Iskandor said, but I got a sense that there was something he was hiding. ‘Honestly, I was curious about you… it’s not often any human shows compassion for a dragon.’

‘So since you were following me, that means you saw what happened to me,’ I muttered.

‘Yes,’ Iskandor sighed. ‘I saw those men drag you to the creek, I saw Norvin stab you. I wanted to save you so badly, but it took too long…’

‘Too long?’ I asked incredulously as I stood up. ‘What were you waiting for?! You could have saved me!’

‘AIDAN!’ Timor’s usually quiet voiced boomed in the darkness as he jumped to his feet. ‘Iskandor risked his life to try and save you! Lest you forget, he was still a baby dragon at the time! There is no need for this attitude of yours!’

I immediately felt guilty. I was getting sick of my own outbursts and the feeling of shame that came afterwards.

‘I —’ I started, but Iskandor interrupted me.

‘There is nothing to be sorry for, Aidan. Not a day goes by that I don’t curse myself for not being able to save your life. And after what that dragon did to you as well…’

‘But you tried,’ I responded. ‘That should count for something.’

‘And you had no way to know how demented that dragon was,’ Timor added.

I nodded. Looking at Iskandor, I could see how guilty he felt, and how it was tearing him apart inside. I would imagine it’s not the side of a dragon one sees every day. I looked at this dragon, his head drooped, his eyes lowered in shame, and I couldn’t help but think,
you don’t see pictures like
that
in books about dragons
.

It was quiet for a few anxious moments, and then Timor put our conversation back on course.

‘I have talked to the Elders of my counsel, but unfortunately, they don’t know enough facts about what happened in Delmar to draw any conclusions.’

‘Do they have
any
ideas as to what might have happened?’ I asked.

‘Well, there was a great deal of speculation about an ancient artifact,’ Timor said, his voice brightening. ‘The Rod of Therl is a one-of-a-kind artifact, capable of extending the effects of a spell across a certain radius. It works with any spells within its range.’

‘Aren’t there any books, or documents?’ I wondered aloud.

‘Any information referring to the Rod has been lost long ago,’ Timor answered. ‘It is ages old, and thought to be long lost.’

‘So what do we do now?’ I asked, an edge of despair in my voice. I felt like we were running blind, fighting an army of unknown origin that possessed an artifact of unknown power. What chance did we have?

‘We go back,’ Timor answered. ‘Since we don’t know where or when they obtained the Rod of Therl, the best chance we have is if we steal it from them before they can reach Delmar. I have a time-traveling jewel, which has a limited number of uses. We’ll use it to go back in time.’

‘Is that possible?’ I questioned, my hope rising. ‘What if we arrive too late?’

Timor shook his head. ‘Do not worry about that. I’m going to send us back with enough time to track down this — cult, shall we say, and steal the Rod away from them. Approximately six months before the attack on Delmar.’

Six months… should be more than enough time to find these cultists. We’d be able to save Delmar.

Save Delmar…

Why did that thought suddenly sound unappealing?

‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ I said, my voice low.

‘Do what?’ Timor asked.

‘I don’t know if I can help you save Delmar.’

This statement was greeted with silence by both man and dragon.

Iskandor clearly wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Aidan, I know your exile was very difficult —’

I cut him off, ‘There’s no way you can possibly know that.’ I wasn’t trying to be combative, just honest. ‘After being accused of committing a supposed crime, that I’m still not entirely sure I committed, King Baladir, whom I served faithfully for many years, didn’t even give me a chance to tell my side of the story. After all of those years, why didn’t he just listen?’ My voice trailed off.

In the ensuing silence, I thought about my feelings a little more deeply. I knew that Baladir had been under fire with the Council watching him closely — but why had that meant that I had to pay such a supreme price? I realize that I hadn’t necessarily followed the letter of the law, but neither had Norvin. My ‘good friend’ had unquestionably broke the law when he’d unsheathed his sword and proceeded to use it against me. But, of course, no one ever heard about that, because I hadn’t even been given my chance to speak.

Both man and dragon were now wearing similar looks of confusion and shock; they had clearly thought I would just go along with them without protest, travel back in time to save a country that betrayed me far worse than I ever (allegedly) betrayed it.

‘Let them rot,’ I said bitterly.

‘Aidan,’ Iskandor sighed in a low voice, ‘you can’t think like that.’

‘I can’t help it,’ I said, my eyes on the ground. ‘I used to have a certain set of beliefs, and I thought that as long as I stayed within those beliefs, everything else would turn out fine. But now, it’s pretty clear that that’s not the case.’

‘But those are people out there!’ Timor exclaimed, rising to his feet.

That was it — he’d pushed me to my limit.

‘I’m perfectly aware of what the situation is,’ I said evenly, not bothering to raise my voice. ‘You have no idea who I am, or what I’ve been through. When you figure it out, let me know — although quite frankly, I don’t like your chances.’

‘There is no reason for you to be that way, Aidan. You are a better man than that,’ the dragon said sternly.

‘Am I?’ My eyebrows raised in skepticism. ‘I have no trouble at all accepting the fate of Delmar, and looking at me now, it would be difficult for one to consider me a man.’

Iskandor and Timor exchanged glances. The sting of my exile still burned within me, consuming my every thought. I remembered every detail… How I felt as I rode through the city for the last time… Every punch, every kick… The cold water of the stream as I lay there, losing consciousness.

From these memories, my anger rekindled, my body shaking with rage. Along with that rage, this new undesired power I had acquired surged within me. It took all of the will I had in my body to contain it, and as I did, a startling new realization came to me — that if Delmar hadn’t betrayed me as they did, I wouldn’t have been doomed to this ghostly, corpse-like form. And I would have been there when they were invaded by these cultists… I may have been able to stop it.

‘They brought this upon themselves when they exiled me,’ I muttered, my voice almost a growl. ‘They don’t deserve my help.’

With that, I stormed into the cave, not wanting to hear their responses, their excuses. I heard them muttering that I ‘just needed to rest.’ In the back of my mind, I don’t believe they realized that to me, it seemed as if the exile had happened several weeks ago, as opposed to three thousand years. It was still painfully fresh in my mind, and I wasn’t able — or willing — to let it go so easily.

I stormed about in the darkness of the cave. Finally, my changed eyes that allowed me to see in the darkness focused on my swords, lying on the cold rock of the cave. I knelt down slowly, and ran my fingers lovingly over the finely woven hilts. As my fingers closed over them, I felt a strange feeling of satisfaction wash over me — a sense of confidence and pride, memories of battles won, of people saved. I remembered how the king’s confidence in my abilities had meant so much to me. I remembered why I wanted to become a knight in the first place… for the glory, of course, but it was also about helping the citizens and serving my country. At those pleasant memories, a feeling of calmness washed over me, and the anger and frustration burning the blood in my veins receded, like swimming in a cool lake on a hot day.

Holding my short swords felt reassuring. These swords had helped me win those battles, save those people. Like many soldiers, I regarded my swords as being a part of me, a part of who I was as a person. I did a single horizontal slash with my right hand, and that one motion filled me with more confidence, as well as a sense of peace. After all the trauma and confusion of what had happened, this was something I understood. I continued slashing — horizontal, diagonal, vertical — then I started parrying invisible attacks, imagining myself battling with invisible enemies, like I did when I was a boy. The more of my old training that I did, the more I felt like my old self. My opinion on Delmar hadn’t changed — I still just couldn’t bring myself to put everything behind me so quickly — but maybe I owed it to myself to go back to my old land, and see how things went so bad so quickly.

And maybe, if I was extra lucky, I could get my hands on Norvin.

I awoke the next morning feeling more clearheaded than I’d been in a long time; I felt at peace after my ‘sparring session’ the night before. I had spoken of a set of beliefs to Timor the night before, and one of them had been, ‘If something is not within your power to control, there’s no point in beating yourself over the head with your own club.’ In other words, if you can’t control something, worrying about it isn’t going to help. The instant I remembered that belief, the raging turmoil in my mind receded even further.

I could hear Timor and Iskandor in conversation outside the cave, speaking seemingly of their impending journey. It seemed that they were resolved to prevent the crisis in Delmar, no matter what price they had to pay. I admired their morals, and was in no way against what they intended to do…I just wasn’t sure I could help them, not after what had happened.

As fond as Iskandor seemed to be of Timor, I didn’t know that I held him in as high a regard. Perhaps it was too early to judge Timor — we’d clearly gotten off on the wrong foot — but I didn’t like his sudden appearance, his perky personality, or his (at times) condescending attitude. But the part of him that really stuck in my craw was that he had assumed that I would just go along with him on this little adventure, after everything that had happened. If not for that assumption, I might have been able to like him.

However, someone like Timor could never know the type of pain I had endured, both physically and emotionally. For that reason alone, it occurred to me that we would never truly see eye-to-eye.

I picked my sheaths up off the floor of the cave, and proceeded to strap them to my back under my black cape. There was a separation between the fabric of my cape and that of my hood, where the top of the twin sheathes would fit in between. Once the sheaths were in place and the swords back in them, I made ready to depart the cave.

Outside, in the cloudy and foggy day, Timor was studying from an enormous book — which I could only assume was a book of magic — and Iskandor was resting atop the cave entrance, but as I emerged, their eyes turned to me, and their expressions became ones of apprehension. After my last words of the previous night, they clearly weren’t sure what my current attitude would be.

Timor in particular had a look of hesitation on his face, as if he had something to say but wasn’t sure what words he should use. Not waiting for him to speak, I walked by them without another glance, heading for the pond, and took a few sips of water. In the water, I once again caught a glimpse of my white eyes, a constant reminder of my suffering.

Iskandor had hunted another deer, which Timor had cooked, so I ate my fill in silence, sitting by the campfire.

When I finished with my meal, I stood up and made ready to leave, with both man and dragon watching my every move. Timor still didn’t look like he’d found the words he wanted to use with me, so I figured I’d start the conversation.

‘So where are we headed?’

Timor seemed to catch my slight emphasis on the word
we,
and his face seemed to brighten just a little. ‘We’re traveling south for a short way, and then west, to the border of Vidasel and the mountains of Balas Malator. A few miles into the mountains, there is a cave where the last time portal is.’

‘Last?’ I asked.

Timor nodded. ‘There used to be several time portals, spread all over the continent. But due to the ruin that has spread out from Delmar, all of them have been destroyed… except for one.’

‘You’re coming with us, Aidan?’ Iskandor asked, surprised.

‘Well, I’m certainly not staying in the world of the damned,’ I quipped.

Although my attempt at humor didn’t even get a chuckle, it still raised my own spirits some. Timor was still staring at me, so I figured further explanation was in order.

‘I will,’ I stated, raising my head slowly to lock eyes with Timor, ‘but not for the reasons you are hoping for.’ I turned and slowly took a couple of steps away from them. ‘Seeing Delmar again is going to be very difficult for me — possibly the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. In fact, whether or not I’ll even be able to bring myself to set foot in the land where I have been exiled remains to be seen. But I do want to know the truth about what happened there. Also, I’d like to get my hands around Norvin’s worthless throat.’

Timor raised his eyebrows. He was silent for a moment. ‘Do you really believe that you can watch, but do nothing to save them?’

I shrugged.

Timor and I turned and started walking south. As I walked, I thought about the last thing he’d said
…would
I really be able to stand back and watch as they suffered under the effects of the ritual?

In the end, I figured that I would decide that when I got there. But until then, let Timor think that I had no intention of helping him.

I was so lost in thought from my own self-analysis, I didn’t realize that there were two sets of
human
footsteps behind me. Two humans — no dragons.

I turned around, and saw Timor walking not too far behind me, followed by a man in blue robes. The hood was pulled over his head, but when I looked at his face, I could see very clearly the yellow eyes that stared back. His skin was a pale color, almost as pale as mine.

I looked at the man, then to Timor, then back to the man. But before I could even ask a question, the man began speaking.

‘It’s me, Aidan,’ the man said, in Iskandor’s voice. ‘I could fly us there, but we agreed that it would attract too much attention. I’ll need to be in my human form before I can enter the portal anyhow.’

I nodded, understanding, then turned and continued walking. Somehow, the idea of Iskandor, a dragon, being able to revert to human form wasn’t too hard for me to grasp.

I was again pondering my previous thoughts about my trepidation concerning Delmar, when I suddenly remembered the conversation Iskandor and I were having before Timor suddenly appeared — about the forest of Vidasel, and how Iskandor said it ‘used to be’ elven territory. So I slowed my steps a bit to allow the other two to catch up.

‘Iskandor,’ I started, ‘what happened to the elves?’

The blue-robed man sighed. ‘Well, you know some of the history between the elves and the dwarves. Several ages ago, they warred for decades at the border we’re about to cross — the elven border of Vidasel and the dwarven border of Balas Malator, the mountain land.’

I nodded, remembering the history. ‘The Valley of Amity.’

‘Yes,’ Iskandor said. ‘Finally, both sides realized they were losing too many of their people, and they came to an uneasy truce, which eventually blossomed a very friendly and healthy alliance, and the two races have lived in harmony ever since, meeting in the Valley of Amity once a year to remember those they had lost.’

‘Then, about eighty years after Delmar was taken over by the cultists, their attack finally reached the lands of the elven/dwarven alliance. The cultists assailed Vidasel from the north, and eventually drove the elves into the mountains. The dwarves came out from their mountain caverns to help their comrades. With the dwarves fighting on the ground, and the elves — who, as you know, are superior archers — shooting from high in the mountains, the cultists didn’t stand a chance, and were forced to retreat to the other side of the river to the north. With the cultists still occupying most of their land, the elves couldn’t return, though they tried several times. Over time, they adapted, very reluctantly, to the mountain life, though they wept for a long time over the loss of their beloved forest. And so the mountains of Balas Malator remain — even three thousand years later — the only land unconquered by the cultists. The dwarves have long since died out, but the elves — with their life spans of thousands of years — still remain.’

‘But I thought elves were immortal,’ I said.

‘To men, they are immortal,’ Iskandor answered. ‘But elves do eventually die. They simply live to be thousands of years old…it is said that they could reach ten thousand.’

‘Are there any other survivors?’ I asked.

‘There are a few settlements of men spread out along the coasts of the continent,’ Iskandor said. ‘A small number of humans survived and fled to the far reaches of the land.’

I nodded, pondering this as we continued our journey. The trail through the forest carried on through the light fog, with few signs of wildlife apparent. Every so often, I would see a squirrel run across the path, or hear a frog croaking in the underbrush, but other than that, the forest wasn’t nearly alive with life as it should have been.

Finally, after some time, the tree line came to a stop at the border, and the path continued on down a small hill, which ran parallel to the tree line as far as it ran north. Straight ahead, about fifty yards away, were the mountains of Balas Malator. I thought about what Iskandor had told me, about these mountains being the only land to survive the threat of the cultists. In my eyes, the mountains stood proud against the decay that had apparently overtaken the rest of the world.

We stopped at the edge of the trees, taking a few moments to collect ourselves before we began the trek into the mountains. There was no visible path into the mountains (that I could see), but Timor must have had an idea of where we were going, having come through here several times to check on my progress over the centuries.

‘Okay,’ Timor said, checking the pouches on his robes, ‘straight ahead, then we go up. We’ll have to travel a fair way into the mountains before we get where we’re going.’

We traveled through the valley quickly. Then, just as we were about to reach the mountains, an arrow landed at my feet.

‘Hm,’ I mumbled before I could think.

‘Hands up!’ a voice yelled from the mountains, and we complied.

A female elf was moving down the trail toward us, walking with the elegant grace and confident stride that only the elves possess. Her hair was long and honey-blond, and her eyes were a soft olive green. The only thing that struck me odd about this elf was her attire; instead of the light, elegant fabric that I remembered, her clothing was now made with much thicker animal fur. I found this odd because I knew from my experience with elves that they had very strong tolerances to heat and cold. But then the thought struck me:
no matter what their tolerance, it wouldn’t protect them from frostbite when the temperatures toward the tops of the mountains fell far below freezing
.

She yelled down to us, ‘State your name and business here!’

Timor stepped forward. ‘Nydel! It’s me, Timor!’

‘Our elven eyes spotted you before you even left the forest,’ Nydel answered. ‘But this time, you bring guests and forgive us, but we’re a bit wary of beings we don’t know these days.’

‘It’s Aidan and Iskandor!’ Timor called.

There was a silence.

‘Aidan and Iskandor?’

Timor nodded.

Another silence, then the elf yelled something in elvish. The elves on the mountains lowered their bows.

The female elf approached and scrutinized us closely. ‘It really is them, isn’t it?’

I glanced at Iskandor, whose expression was neutral.

Nydel nodded, understanding. She then looked at me with a scrutinizing gaze. ‘And you are Aidan…from Delmar?’

I frowned a little, trying to figure out where her tone of wonder was coming from — then I remembered my altered appearance. ‘I am.’

The elf’s wide-eyed gaze of awe shifted to a slight frown of puzzlement. ‘You look nothing like him. And yet, that scar…’ She was quiet for a moment. ‘That means they can save our world!’

I had to get a handle on the anger that swelled inside me. Boy, Timor could be quite presumptuous, couldn’t he?

Suddenly, we heard what sounded like a stampede, coming from the northwest.

Appearing suddenly through the fog, a group of men charged through the clearing toward us — though none like I had ever seen before. Their skin was black — not the dark brown of the people of the islands, but black like obsidian. I noticed their eyes were even stranger than mine: blood red. The entire eye was that sickening color of red, not just the irises and the pupils. Most were armed, with swords and axes, and some wielded shields.

I yanked my swords from their sheaths, heard Timor chanting to my right, heard Iskandor let out a low growl. I ran right out in front, the lust of battle overtaking me. Finally, something I could fight against, something I could take out my anger and aggression on!

The first of the wave came at me, and I was in motion. I ducked as the swing of a battle axe sailed over my head, and responded with a double horizontal swipe from my right, taking down the first. Behind me, I could hear Timor and Iskandor using their magic, along with screams of defeated foes. I could hear the elves firing arrows.

Another of the mob swung a sword from over his shoulder, intending to slice me in half. I blocked the swing with the sword in my left hand, and stabbed him through the abdomen with the sword in my right. He fell, and behind him came another, swinging an axe in each hand. I prepared to counter, but something was tugging at my leg.

I looked down, and the first foe I had taken down wasn’t dead. He had both arms around my ankles, trying to drag me down to the ground. It appeared that these new foes would not be put down with simple slashes and stabs.

Damn!

I reacted on instinct. I tossed the blade in my right hand and caught it with blade facing down, and stabbed the man right down through his neck. His grasp on my leg immediately loosened, and I
jumped
backward.

When I say I ‘jumped’, I mean that’s what I attempted to do. The more appropriate term is probably
flew
. It seemed my newfound powers had also enhanced my natural abilities. I found that my jumping ability had increased greatly, as I landed some ten yards from where I had originally jumped.

Interesting
.

The mob expressed no surprise, nothing except the intent to kill, and kept charging.

I was still surprised by my unexpected flight, so when the man with the two axes reached me and swung his axes from both sides, I blocked them with both swords and kicked him away to buy myself time. He immediately came at me again, attempting to swing both axes diagonally from his right side. I pulled my head back to dodge (usually a fundamental no-no…oops), and stabbed him with both swords as he stumbled past. I kicked him away again to free my swords, and prepared to take on the next foe, when I heard a deafening screech.