Dragonsphere (The Fallen King Chronicles Book 1) Page 10

  “For a time, the people followed the Ai with every twitch of their muscles. Quickly, however, through corrupt priests, they forgot about the Ai, reducing him to a legend that their parents would tell them in front of the hearth, or the name that the teachers and priests used in frightening followers into obedience.

  “A little over a hundred and forty-three years ago, there appeared a young child, who was called Aio. Although very few people would believe it at the time, he was the Ai, put in human flesh. At first, only twelve men believed. Among these were the Great High Priest Dazu, called Aio, and his successor Daio, called Aio, who was the last living man to have spoken with the Great Lord Aio. Over ten years, they united the priests of the Five Islands, commenced reform among the priests and schools, and brought a large portion of the people back to a following of the Ai.

  “Aio had many enemies, however, among some of the middle and lower levels of the priesthood as well as in the Cabinet. His actions had cost many of them their political power, as well as their control over the people. Many corrupt priests had had their cloaks shredded because of this man who claimed to be the Ai. To rid themselves of him, there was only one solution: invoke the old magics.”

  “Wasn’t the use of magic in times of peace forbidden by the Aihi law at that time?” asked Las.

  “It was punishable by death,” said Imen. “This did not cause the enemies of the Great High Priest to hesitate in their actions. They were afraid of Aio nonetheless, and made sure that nothing of their deeds became known.

  “Many attempts were made to kill him through various magical and scientific methods, all quite unsuccessful. In desperation, the renegade priests made the decision that almost destroyed the Five Islands: through a meticulous search, they were able to locate and summon the reincarnated spirit of Orlek.”

  At this, Las looked a bit puzzled. “This is one part that I have not yet fully grasped. In one section of the histories, it says that he was thrown out of the Council building window, that the cracking of his bones was heard. At the point in history where you have arrived in your retelling, he is alive and reincarnated?”

  Imen nodded. “No one to this day has delved as deep into the magic as had Orlek. All that we have been able to decide is that during his experiments with magic, he found a way to detach his spirit from his body at the last possible moment, and then find another body in which he could abide. How he was able to do it, no one can say.

  “The rest of the history you know in detail. I shall recite it briefly. Orlek had come into power, eventually becoming ruler of a land far to the north, populated chiefly by Orcs and sorcerer men. When he was summoned, one could expect that he was more than delighted at an invitation to destroy not only the Great High Priest, but also the incarnation of his greatest foe, Lord Aio, the personification of the Ai. He stretched out his spirit into the Five Islands, telling the conspirators that he would come immediately. He neglected to tell them of the great force of Orcs that he would send to precede him, or of his plans to take control over the Five Islands from them. At the beginning of the fortieth year of the Lord Aio, the first of his forces landed on this Island.

  “The war that ensued continued for almost four years. Everyone on the Islands that had conspired against the Lord Aio either changed his mind or had been killed in battle after joining the Orc army. At the end of those four years, it seemed that neither side would gain any advantage. Both Orlek and the Five Islands had poured the blood of their armies like water. The valley floor became black with the bodies of Orcs, our rivers ran red with our own blood. It was then that Orlek decided to show his strength in full.”

  Las nodded. “It took all the magic of the High Priests just to repel this last attack. A dragon was released into Oakvalor and Talvaard, and even the body of the Great Lord Aio was destroyed in this battle.”

  “Along with Orlek’s. It has been said that the two departed to battle in the spiritual realm. As Orlek’s physical body was robbed of life, so was he lost to the Five Islands. He is but a distant memory, if that, in the minds of the people.

  “He has, however, remained quite alive in the minds of the High Priests. In the mind of the Great High Priest Dazu, especially. As you know well, he was one of the greatest prophets our history has ever known. It was said that he was, when prophecy came to him, able to leave his body and go to the places and times where the prophecies would take place. He knew that whatever battle fought by Aio and Orlek in the spiritual realm would not finish itself out there. It would have to end here, on the Five Islands, where it started almost six centuries ago. On his deathbed, he asked for a pen and parchment. He began to sing the song which I sang to you as he drew the symbol from which I have drawn. He prophesied of the coming of Orlek to retake the Five Islands, an admonition to the Aihi.”

  For a moment, neither of them spoke. Imen was content to sit watching the valley beneath him, not waiting for a response. Las sat doing the same thing, wishing she could say something. Anything.

  She sighed. “One can never fully appreciate what one has until one has it no more. Everything about the Lord Aio and his early years as a priest was known to me. I realize now, especially with what is supposed to happen, that I have taken all of my advantages for granted.”

  Imen looked at her, smiling in response. “It might not be that your labors here were quite as useless as I had thought. One of the messengers, along with another, approaches as we speak.”

  A few seconds later Erasen and another figure cloaked in brown turned the corner. One could see the glint of white armor, the color of the Island of Ban, in the last rays of sunlight. Yet it was not Lady Melar that came with Erasen but the eldest of her pupils, Lord Arum, who had also been considered for the High Priesthood over the Red Island. It was not the coming of Lord Arum that set the Priest and Priestess sitting on the stones ill at ease, but the absence of the Lady Melar. The ceremonies were to be performed the next day. Although it was most likely that Arum would be chosen as High Priest of the Red Island, Lady Melar would also have been present.

  None of this, however, was enough to prepare Imen for what was to come. Lord Arum came and knelt at the High Priest’s feet, saying, “Hail Lord Imen called Aio, Great High Priest of the Aihi!”

  Imen stood, facing the bowing Priest. “Greetings to you, Lord Arum. You seem to be a bit mistaken. I am merely the lowest of the High Priests. Where is the Lady Melar?”

  Arum got up, his long, bony frame a few inches taller than Imen’s. “There is no mistake, my lord. As for the Lady Melar, her end was much the same as that of the Lord Aio and the other three.”

  “The others?” asked Imen, choking on the words.

  “The entire Council, save for yourself, murdered in their own huts, the symbol cut into their backs.”

  “The Order is respected and feared. Wizards can control the elements, summon powerful creatures, and even control other’s minds. The Divines help us if they can’t.”

  - Artivolian,

  current Abbot

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Shortly after arriving back at the abbey, Velkyn and Calderon were both summoned to the Abbot’s chamber. They walked together through the stone halls quietly, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Calderon kept replaying the terrifying events of that morning in his mind, desperately trying to figure out why Prince Ranaan would have murdered his own brother.

  Perhaps what Velkyn said earlier about a coup was the truth. Maybe the younger prince was not happy with being second in line for the throne and murdered his brother out of anger and jealousy? Yet from all that he had heard, both princes were respected and mature, never having any real dispute with one another. It didn’t add up.

  “The world feels … darker somehow,” Velkyn whispered to Calderon. “I feel it in my spirit. It is as though some unseen force blankets the land.” Calderon didn’t respond. He considered his friend’s words. While he didn’t feel what Velkyn spoke of, it did make sense to him. Perhaps the darkness that Velkyn felt wa
s behind the actions of the young prince.

  They reached the door to the abbot’s chamber and paused, glancing at each other. “What do you think he wants?” Calderon asked softly. Velkyn shrugged in response. “Only one way to find out.”

  Velkyn knocked on the door, but there was no answer from within. He waited a moment and then knocked again, louder this time. The door swung open silently and they were greeted by Donovan. The former Musician said nothing as he walked out in what Calderon thought was quite a hurry. The Abbot sat behind his desk writing. Without looking up he told them to shut the door and have a seat.

  They sat down and waited for the Abbot to speak. The old leader of the monastery finished writing and folded the parchment in three creases. Lifting the burning candle that rested on his desk, he poured the hot wax onto the paper. He removed one of the rings that adorned his fingers and pressed it into the quickly cooling wax, leaving an imprint of a flag with a water drop in the center, the official seal of the church. He set the letter to the side and looked at the young monks.

  It seemed to Calderon that their leader had grown older since that morning. The lines of age creased his face and his eyes seemed dimmer. “We are in danger.” Calderon and Velkyn exchanged looks. Velkyn turned his gaze back to the Abbot. “The sphere is safe,” he managed to say before he was silenced by the Abbot’s upraised hand.

  “That may not true,” the Abbot said. He ran his hands through his thinning white hair and sighed aloud. “We fear that the dragon may have escaped the sphere somehow.”

  “How?” Both monks echoed in unison.

  The Abbot shook his head hopelessly. “Donovan thinks the enchantment has failed, perhaps the magic was too old to be strengthened by the music. We can only speculate. He has gone to see if our fears prove to be true.” Velkyn realized then why he had been summoned with no one left to protect the sphere. His protection may no longer be required.

  “How can he know if the creature is no longer bound within the sphere?” Calderon spoke up.

  “Donovan has been the Musician longer than any other before him. He has been in the position since he was barely eighteen and he is now ninety. He has studied the sphere longer than anyone of our brotherhood. If anyone could know, it would be him.”

  Calderon felt fear welling up in his stomach, threatening to overwhelm him. He cracked open his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His life was over. He had messed up and there was nothing anyone could do to help him. He decided then to confess hiding his condition and express his fear that he had fallen asleep when he was supposed to play the music.

  Velkyn sat forward in his chair, staring intently at the abbot. “What if it is true? What if the dragon has escaped … what does that mean?”

  “Absolute destruction,” Donovan’s voice answered. Neither Calderon nor Velkyn heard him enter. “That is what is upon us,” his tone was grave and ominous. Donovan walked up to them slowly. “The sphere’s magic has failed.”

  All three men turned to look at Donovan, alarm evident on their faces. The Abbot rose from his chair. “And so it begins.”

  “What begins?” Calderon looked questioningly from Donovan to the Abbot. He had the feeling that they knew something he didn’t.

  “It is written that the dragon, before it was captured in the sphere, wreaked havoc across the land. It burned entire cities to the ground with its very breath. The only reason it was stopped was because of Oakvalor. The people there do not fear wizards as the people of Talvaard do. What begins, Calderon, is the quest to save our world. In order to recapture the dragon’s spirit, we must first know where it is. The wizards of Oakvalor are our only option.”

  Velkyn sputtered in disbelief. “Our kingdoms have no love for each other, everyone knows that.” The Abbot smiled at him. “True, but the church’s loyalty lies to the Divines, not to the crown. We have allies there that will aid us. And the wizards, though they have helped their king in the past, do not concern themselves with politics. They will know the importance of this task.”

  “We have lost enough time already.” Donovan added. He and the Abbot shared a knowing look. “Make the preparations.” Donovan nodded and left the room. Velkyn and Calderon stared at their leader, waiting for further explanation. “Neither of you are ready for this, but you will not be alone. Donovan is going with you.”

  “Going with us? Where are we going?” Velkyn wasn’t sure he fully understood the Abbot’s meaning.

  The Abbot stared at him, the old man’s eyes drilling straight into his soul. He slumped into his chair dejectedly. “To Oakvalor, my son. You are both going to Oakvalor.”

  • • •

  Calderon sat upon the edge of his bed, trying to prepare himself mentally for the journey he was about to take. He should have been getting some rest, but his mind was racing. Truth be told, he was a little curious and a lot afraid. Curious about the world outside the abbey, yet afraid of the unknown all at the same time. He had to travel light and only bring the things he absolutely needed. They would travel by horseback until they reached the mountains, but then they would have to pass through on foot.

  The Abbot had shown them to a room full of miscellaneous items that the monks did not have any need for. He had taken a thick brown traveling cloak trimmed in black silk and some leather boots. They would be leaving under the cover of night so as not to draw any unwanted attention and there was only a few hours of daylight left. He was glad that Donovan was going with them, despite the fact that he was so aged. He trusted him and found comfort in the fact that he was so knowledgeable.

  He extinguished the candle on his desk then laid down and tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. Not far from Calderon’s room, Velkyn too sat pondering what lay ahead. Unlike his friend, however, he was not afraid. He was pleased to be leaving the abbey. Adventure was calling his name. He had written a note to Nydel and would leave it for her in the event she didn’t visit him tonight. He couldn’t leave her behind. He was confident that she would find some way to come with him. Velkyn smiled as he thought about her.

  She usually wore her hair down and the long black strands reminded him of the ravens that often flew into the fields around the abbey, always trying to eat the crops. Her eyes were bright green and shined like her free-spirited soul. Every detail of her face was etched into his memory, every moment spent with her locked into his remembrance. He loved her with every fiber of his being. Velkyn stretched out across his bed and stared at the smooth stone ceiling, running their last encounter back through his mind.

  He drifted off to sleep peacefully.

  • • •

  Calderon was awakened in the middle of a pleasant dream. Velkyn stood over him, shaking his shoulder. “Time to leave,” he said softly, as if fearing his voice might be heard throughout the abbey. Calderon pushed himself into a seated position, hanging his feet off the edge of his small bed. Donovan appeared in the doorway. “Grab your things and meet me in the courtyard by the main gate. And make haste,” he added, almost as an afterthought. Then he was gone.

  “I’m not sure about this,” Calderon said quietly. Velkyn’s excitement showed in his demeanor. “What do you mean? We will finally get to see what lies beyond these walls, probably farther than any brother before us has traveled. What are you unsure of?”

  Calderon couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something at the edge of his mind that gave him the uneasy feeling that life would not be the same after this journey. “There isn’t anything specific,” he said, “but I have the feeling we will soon learn things that will change our lives. It’s as if there is a veil, and somethingwhether good or illis waiting behind it to be revealed. And I am not sure that I am ready for it.”

  Velkyn stood in silence listening, taking in the words of his friend. “If what you feel does come about, do you think that though you are not ready now, you will be when it happens? The Divines will work everything out as it should be. Now come on, we need to leave.”

  Calderon
wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t think Velkyn’s last statement was true. He decided there was nothing that could be done about it and got up off his bed. He had slept in his new leather boots and grabbed his cloak off the chair by his desk before following his friend out of the room. He looked back one more time, staring into his room. He wondered how long it would be before he saw it again. They made their way down the halls and to the courtyard. They found Donovan waiting for them at the main entrance. “Don’t we need a couple more of our brothers in order to open this gate?” asked Velkyn as they approached Donovan.

  “We would if we were leaving through it,” Donovan replied. He smiled at their look of confusion and motioned them to follow him. The old man led them along the east wall. Stopping abruptly, Donovan felt along the stone until he found one that felt loose. He grunted as he pulled on it and was rewarded when a grinding sound revealed a hidden doorway. “We are going this way,” he told them, “to avoid being seen leaving. We don’t need to draw any unwanted attention to our departure.”

  They pulled the stone door open enough to fit through. On the other side of the door was a steel handle attached to the door. They used it to pull the hidden door closed behind them. Calderon heard the soft nickering of horses before he saw them. Three horses were tied to one of the many wooden posts along the side of the abbey that were used for the delivery carriages. Calderon eyed them warily, having never ridden one before. “Are they safe?” he asked.