Vegenrage: Dragon Reclaim (35 page)

Basters had risen the ranks to be the top leading general in his army. He was a good man, and fighting was his passion. His men all looked up to him and respected him greatly. He had done terrible things in combat, but when in combat, he always fought to win and did. He had a well-rounded nature about his personality, never going over the edge and always in control of his emotions. He, at times, looked back on his past, and the one terrible thing he had done in his life was take part in the raping of Somgla. When he thinks about this moment in his past, he cannot believe he did it. This event has, at times, torn up his insides, and somehow he was just caught up in the moment, and what happened, happened. It was not him that killed Somgla. It was his men that ravaged her afterward, and she defended herself, tooth and nail, until she ultimately was killed. Basters had two men executed for this inexcusable act, and the next thing he and his men knew, they were being turned into pigs. Cloakenstrike then stepped in and created the humanor race that now is left alive, only by Fraborn, a true humanor.

Basters surprises the elves, greatly allowing them to run the kingdom how they see fit. He grants them all their wishes and provides them free will to create to trade and to travel and study however they wish. He sets no new rules on them. He hinders their actions in no way and tells them all he wishes is for them to be happy and prosperous. His only one demand of the elves is that should he call upon them, they will not question his authority, and if and when called upon, they will fight for Basters—no question. He goes on to tell the elves he will only call upon them in defense of Ugoria. The elves find Basters very reasonable and surprisingly relaxed. They can find no reason to argue or fight with him. The discussion lasts over an hour, and they start to arrange in a hierarchy to form a chain of command from Basters on down. It is made clear that Cloakenstrike will lead the magical order, and Fraborn will lead the warrior class, and this is acceptable by the elves. This is much the same way Basters leads his army and Bastrenboar leads his humanor race, and what he always had was the respect of those that followed him. He has got off on the right foot so far with the elves, and everyone leaves satisfied for now.

At the back of the throne room is a short stair that leads to a golden chair. This is new. It is solid gold with red rubies, green emeralds, and blue sapphires studded throughout the gold. There is a soft cushion on the seat and back as with the armrests. Basters walks up the stair and sits on the chair. He sits there, looking over his throne room, with Cloakenstrike and Fraborn, watching as the new king of Ugoria takes his first seat in the king’s chair.

“Cloakenstrike, Fraborn, it has happened. I have been turned to my true human form, and I am now king of Ugoria. I had thought of ruling my people, but elves, this is astonishing. I will rule with compassion and kindness, and only in the defense of our new kingdom will I use force.” Basters cannot believe he said that and thoughts and visions of kindness and compassion enter his mind. “Cloakenstrike, you now have a magical order to lead and run as you see fit. Is this appealing to you?”

“I will see how it goes.”

“Okay then. Make binding ties to your magic users and create a magical order rivaled by no other.”

“Yes, my king.” Cloakenstrike bows slightly and walks away.

“Fraborn, you will lead an elven warrior army. Is this appealing to you?”

“This is something I never even dreamed of, but I will serve, my king, faithfully.”

“Okay. Go to your army and lead with an open mind. There is much to be learned from both you and the elves.”

“Yes, my king.” Fraborn bows and walks away.

Basters sits all alone in silence as visions of Shenlylith come into his mind and direct him to the upper part of the kingdom. Basters heads up to the highest part of the kingdom, and he comes to two doors closed with big horizontal S door handles. He tries to open the handle to the right, but it is locked. He tries again, and it opens. He enters, and there is a bed and dresser in here with personal belongings of Shenlylith. He can see her in her youth with a smile on her face and brushing her hair in a very large mirror. She is beautiful and innocent. He approaches a podium near a big window that leads to a balcony large enough to walk out onto and overlook the Ugorian Kingdom. There are long see-through silk curtains blowing in the warm breeze, blowing into the bedroom, and Basters stands in front of the podium. There is a golden base with two notches in it. He removes his trinket and places the small white gold elven figurine into the yellow gold that fits perfectly. Shenlylith forms into a miniature elf, the exact likeness of herself, and Basters’s eyes widen, and a smile consumes his face as good and warm feelings overtake his body.

“Basters, you are now king of Ugoria. The kingship of Ugoria has been taken by force for the fourth time now. You have been granted my protection within the Snow Gold Trinket. My purpose is to protect the king of Ugoria, and my magical power is infused in the king, along with my good nature. You have already let your subjects rule as they see fit, and you have told them you will only use force in the protection of Ugoria. This is my gift to you, King Basters. Your aggression will be replaced with compassion. Your hostility will be replaced with tenderness and need to rule alone replaced with the need for equality. In the event that Ugoria shall face certain danger, your aggression and hostility will come back to you strong, and your enemies will face your full wrath with the entire Ugorian Kingdom under your loyal control. I take you under my wings, and may you live long and strong.” The wings of Shenlylith grow from her back. They extend out and wide enough for Basters to look up into the beautiful snow-white light that they cast on him. He smiles and holds his hands to his sides, palms up, feeling the goodness that Shenlylith magically infuses him with. This goes on for a minute, and then the wings shrink back down, and Shenlylith rests back into the golden base and becomes the trinket. Basters picks the trinket and puts it around his neck. He heads out of the room, feeling good, actually happy, in the truest sense of fulfillment. He closes the doors to Shenlylith’s room and heads to his throne room.

CHAPTER 28
The Inner Realm of Kronton

Cormygle enters the air over Pinegrow Forest from a Dimension Door and glides down to the bare land where Xanorax’s home used to be. He lands, and Xanorax jumps off. The saddle on Cormygle’s back disappears, and he heads off into the air through another Dimension Door. Xanorax looks around to see his home is gone. Zevoncour rises from the earth beside Xanorax, and he bows. “My master, you have come for my assistance?”

“No, Xanorax, I have come to rebuild and offer my generosity for your service. Step back with me.” Xanorax follows Zevoncour to the edge of the forest, and Xanorax watches as Zevoncour rises a new home for him from the earth. His new home rises fully intact from the demonic land, and Xanorax feels his strength grow. His home is much more simple than it used to be. Four simple walls grow up from the earth with a pointed roof. It is made out of solid rock. It is gray in color and very thick with no windows, just a balcony on the third and top level of his new home.

“Xanorax, this is your new home. It is fully protected from the dragons that live nearby. They cannot harm this home with magic, breath, or the might of their bodies. Demon magic now protects this home, and your cellar is still intact as it was before. Your summoning well has been restored, and there are four new demon statues at your disposal. I have even provided you with a new Gardimension. I have one very important magical item for you.” Zevoncour reaches into his bearskin pants and pulls a Bag of Holding from within. This was the Bag of Holding carried by Persen. It contains the entire wealth of the once Hiltorian people that was the treasure of the great Vergraughtu. There is a great wealth of treasure and magical items here to benefit you greatly. We must know if this Bag of Holding will accept you as its master.” Zevoncour holds the bag by its golden rope with both hands apart, and the bag rests in the center of the rope. “Reach into the bag and feel for its contents.” Xanorax reaches into the bag, and it starts to chop his hand then his forearm then his elbow.

“Zevoncour, what is it doing?”

“
Stop, bag. Accept Xanorax as your master or be destroyed.”

The Bag of Holding continues to consume Xanorax and is up to his bicep now. Zevoncour releases the ropes and sticks the claws on his index fingers into the bag, halting its advance on Xanorax. “I command you, bag. Accept Xanorax as your master, or I will destroy you.” The bag stays right where it is, and Zevoncour cannot pull it back down the arm of Xanorax. “This is your last chance, bag. Accept Xanorax or be destroyed.” Zevoncour still cannot pull the bag off Xanorax. “This is you end, bag.” The ground shakes a little, and black liquid looking like tree roots grow from the earth. They attach to the legs of Zevoncour and wrap around his body, growing all the way up him and down his shoulders and arms until they reach the Bag of Holding. The tentacles reach the bag and start to melt as they touch the bag, sizzling and melting, dripping bubbling black acid to the ground. The tentacles keep trying as more and more of the tentacles are burning and trying to gain access into the bag. Zevoncour smiles and shakes, grimacing using lots of his magical power to gain access to the bag with his Tentacles of Death. This goes on for some minutes as tens of tentacles are now trying to gain access to the bag. Zevoncour is grimacing and smiling and using lots of energy, and the ground is sizzling and melting from all the acid now streaming to the ground. More and more tentacles grow from the ground, and Zevoncour is almost completely covered in the black mass. Finally, one of the tentacles gains access into the bag and then another and another, and the bag pops, exploding gold dust into the air, and the bag disintegrates. Unfortunately for Xanorax, everything in the bag at the time of its destruction is destroyed as well. He looks down to see that his left arm right from the center of his bicep is gone.

“Zevoncour, what of my arm?”

“I cannot bring back your arm. It is gone. This is a risk we had to take in order to see if the bag would accept you. It did not, and I cannot replace your arm. That is no worry. We will replace it with the arm of another. For right now, explore and become comfortable with your new home. I have some other things to tend to right now, and when your services are required, I will call for you.”

“Yes, my master.” Xanorax walks into his new home looking down at his left side all of a sudden minus his left arm.

Vegenrage is still concentrating on Farrah who has not woken yet. Vegenrage feels stinging electrocutions around his waist and falls back on the ground. He grabs at the rope around his waist, stinging his hands as well, and he rolls around a bit until it stops. “Behaggen, what is it? What has happened?”

“It is Bigits. He has been destroyed. My third offspring has been destroyed.”

“How? Bags of Holding cannot be destroyed.”

“It was the demon, Zevoncour. He captured Bigits, along with Persen, and they now both have been destroyed. I know where he was last. He was in the Pinegrow Forest. Xanorax was trying to make Bigits his own, and Bigits refused him. He was consuming Xanorax, and the power of Zevoncour destroyed Bigits. The demon was on the surface. The demons can walk the outer realms with all their power. The home of Xanorax has been fortified with demon magic. Now even the magical items are at risk.”

“Behaggen, can you summon Parnapp to help me revive Farrah?”

“Sure thing.” Behaggen calls to Parnapp, and he awakens.

“Dad, Vemenomous has charmed Farrah, and his magic is strong. It is demonology. I cannot bring her back. This is the worst evil. I can only wait to see what happens when she wakens.”

“Oriapow, Logantrance, Blythgrin, Behaggen, surely, between us, we can help her. We can protect her. I will not let her be charmed by this evil.”

“Vegenrage, this is a new era. This is magic like we have never seen before.”

“If nothing else, I will use all my magical strength to shield her from their evil hands. I will not let them have her.”

Logantrance pats Vegenrage on the shoulder, and the others look at one another, bewildered.

Blethstole has made his way to Mirrimya Mountain, along with all the dragons. This first day of the third Dragon Feast has been as written catastrophic for the dragons. Blethstole is atop his mountain, looking over the fourteen surviving dragons. This does not include Mezzmaglinggla, Gwithen, and their young, but this is all the strong and dominant dragons. The dragons have lost more life to the races of man, demon, and dragon that they could have ever imagined. Blethstole looks over the dragons in disbelief as he begins to speak. “The Maglical System is changing in exponential ways. I cannot believe, as I am sure you cannot, that we have lost life to all the races of man, to demons and even to our own kind. Our race is on the pinnacle of survival and extinction. We are all that is left of the dragons. We, last few dragons, are still the strongest race in the Maglical System, but we are very fragile. We have to think about replenishing our race, or we will die out. I have said we should attack Erkensharie in force in the morning, but we have so much to be concerned with now. We have the races of man, the demons, and even our own kind is killing us now. We have to think of new ways to survive as a race. If we keep attacking, we may not be able to recover from our losses. We have to band together and watch out for one another and take on and destroy any and all that threaten us. Offensively, we are losing too much life. We must start to think of defensive posture and protect the life we still have. We have to form a stronghold where we can live in safety and replenish our numbers. We have to face the reality that there are forces growing very strong around us, and we are being defeated. We have to gather our females and protect them now, or it is all over for us. We have to make sure that the young dragons in the Maglical System survive. We cannot afford to lose any of them. This new form of dragon seeks to destroy us, along with demons and the races of man. We must start to think differently. No longer are we solitary, or we die. We must gather Mezzmaglinggla and Gwithen, bring them to safety, or protect them where they are and ensure that our young live to adulthood. If our race does not reproduce and survive, then we all die.”

“Blethstole, there is another female. She lives in the Talbuterall Lowlands, and she has three young. We must protect her. She and her young are the most at risk.”

“
Dribrillianth, you have young?”

“Yes, and I will see them to safety.”

“What are their names?”

“The female is Quailrain. Our young are Ayonde, Elbonic, and Krigeblore.”

“This is good, Dribrillianth. We have to see to it that Mezzmaglinggla and Quailrain have our protection. Make them understand that without our protection, they are in life-threatening danger. We must protect them and their young. New days for the dragons are upon us, and we have to evolve or else.” All the dragons can sense the demonic power that is massing in the Pinegrow Forest to the east. Zevoncour has rose a new home for Xanorax and destroyed the Bag of Holding, and the dragons can sense this magic.

“Dragons, can you feel it? Demon power grows strong all around us. Gannream, take seven with you to protect Mezzmaglinggla. Dribrillianth, take seven with you to protect Quailrain, and I will go to Gwithen. We had better protect one another from now on. Our fate is in our hands. If any of us run into demon or Vemenomous, call for all of us, and we must all respond immediately. If they attack us, we fight with all of our lives. Go now.” The dragons gather into two groups of seven, and Blethstole heads for the lair of Gwithen.

Zabkef has recently been slain by the dragons, and before him, Practu was killed by Vegenrage and Farrah. Now there is a void in the inner realm of Kronton. The demon master is gone, and now the battle for demon master is beginning to heat up. There is no discussion in the inner realms. There is no compromise. There is only chaos and leadership from the strongest. With Practu and Zabkef killed, there is no one strongest demon to step in and take over. There are many suitors to take over as demon master, and already the fighting has begun.

The inner realms all look very similar. There is hot earth made of solid stone with veins of molten lava running through them. There are open caverns and tunnels in the center of the worlds where the demons make their home. The souls of the most cruel, violent, and devious of nature are brought here to be tortured forever. The worst of the worst sink to the depths of the inner realms. The thing that people on the outer realms do not realize is that you cannot torture a soul by means of physical pain. You cannot cause it pain. The torture comes by way of mental anguish. Being locked in a rock prison burning hot, everyone here is meaner and worse than the next. Once here, the souls realize this, and many of the newest souls quickly become the worst of the worst. There are souls that are just plain subservient, and these are the souls that are truly mentally tortured forever. They are abused with words and tormented with horrific images forever and told what to do, and after all, what is there to do? The souls all duel with one another, trying to gain strength from the other souls by creating more and more horrific imagery than the next. When one soul scares another soul more, it gains the strength of that soul and makes one soul stronger. This is an insidious cycle that goes on over and over forever. By gaining the strength of many souls, one can take a physical presence in the inner realm, becoming a demon. Souls cannot use magic, but souls that become demons can. Compared to the many souls that come here, very few make their way to demon form, but there are still a lot of them. Well, things are changing, and the demonic souls of all three inner realms of the Maglical System are well aware that Zevoncour has made it possible for the demons of the inner realms to walk the outer realms. Believe it or not, there are evil blessings just as there are blessings of good, and the demons need the blessing of Zevoncour to rise to the surface. Demons cannot freely go to the outer realms because their power would be useless, and they would soon die. They can be summoned to the surface by powerful magic casters of evil and the dark arts. This summoning protects the demons from the magical presence of the Maglical System that would destroy them. This summoning of demons is the most powerful of evil magic and taxes the caster of this magic greatly. This is why it is so rare and uncommon for demons to be summoned to the outer realms. There can be no doubt that Zevoncour would bless all the demons, and why would he not want all the demons causing chaos on the outer realms? One thing is for sure. There has to be a demon master of Kronton. The demon master of each world gains the strength of all the demons in his particular realm, so this is a very enviable position among the demons and a great advantage against all rivals, and the attempts for power in the inner realms are never in short supply. If a soul gains enough strength and takes the form of demon now, the demon can feel pain and act like a living being when in fact it is. Demon flesh is immune to fire, and in fact, it can burn, and usually does, like a candle that never goes out. Demons can fight to the death, and if a demon is killed, they now go to the true hell of the Maglical System, and there is no coming back from hell, and nothing is known of hell here, just that it exists, or so many believe. If a demon is killed anywhere, it is gone to hell forever. Demon fighting demon is not uncommon, and demons can kill one another like all living beings. Their bodies take the shape and form of their strongest imagery. Some take a monstrous form, while others like to keep a human form with special adaptations, giving them some sort of great ability. The souls that gain more and more souls begin to take form, and they form into the vision they have created for themselves as a demon, and all demons want to be worse than the rest. When a soul has made enough souls subservient this is when they take form and become a demon. Few but some female souls have made very good tries to become a demon, but none have taken form yet. The first thing a demon does when it takes form is name itself and announces it loud and proud or is eliminated very quickly by the other demons. Demons do fight a lot, and it is not usually to the death because again, if a demon dies, it goes to hell and is never heard from again. In the case of fighting, for demon master, now everything is at stake, and all demons want to be demon master.