Dragonsphere (The Fallen King Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Imen, still bent over from his injury, motioned for the new Council to rise. “May the Ai grant this Council the wisdom with which to lead our people in these ever perilous times, and may we be granted the power with which to carry out wise decisions. I hereby, as spokesperson for the Ai, ordain this High Priest Council, to lead and serve the Five Islands of the Aihi in the name of the Ai.”

  He walked past the other five members of the Council, motioning to Erasen to follow him. He motioned for the other two priests to come near to him as well. “Have preparations made for a meal in my hut. Prepare also a resting place for the Lords Arum and Irn, and Ladies Elaran and An. When you are done, do as thorough a search as you can of this mountain. Magic is in use here on this mountain, apart from the wonders of the ceremony. Faint traces, but there is definitely some magic. I can feel it. Erasen, I have a task for you when these are finished.”

  Father Ean got up, stretching. “Took them long enough,” he said, watching the sun near its zenith. “I suppose the two of you are hungry?” The two Serpentauri nodded. “I can smell the ripe wheat from here,” said Kelron, stamping a hoof.

  “We had best wait a bit longer,” said Father Ean. “The Priests and Priestesses must travel to their huts, rest, eat, feast and whatever else civilized men do. We must wait until such a time as they are all inside their huts, engrossed in whatever activity they happen to partake in.”

  Kelron raised his head. “You speak of civilized men, Father Ean. Do you not consider yourself to be civilized?”

  Father Ean laughed. “I once considered myself civilized, although I cannot speak for the other men of my time who knew me. Now, that is the last word that be used to describe the gardener of Oakvalor.”

  Kelros nodded. “How long shall we wait, Father Ean?”

  Father Ean looked down upon the deserted Council Circle. “A short time. Your feasting shall be worth whatever longer wait you must suffer.”

  “Upon this road, at this time, the only

  certainty is that nothing is certain.”

  - Calderon

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  They lost almost two full days, but they had finally passed the Sly Mare. They didn’t stop at the inn again, choosing instead to put more distance between themselves and the three men who might have killed them. At the base of the Vish Mountains rested the last sign of life until one crossed over the mountains. The monstrous line of rugged terrain stretched from the Ocean hundreds of miles north straight to the Deadland. The mountains were the official boundary between Talvaard and Oakvalor. Once they traveled into Oakvalor, they would have to rely on help from their enemies to find their way to the monastery of their brothers.

  They set up a makeshift camp in a small clearing of trees close to the stables of the small town that named itself after the mountain range. The population of the town had steadily declined over the years as most of the youth had gone off to join the king’s army. Vish’s only inn was more a shack than any actual accommodations, and none of the few rooms it had were available. The monks made the best of it, tying the flimsy limbs of the small trees to each other, which helped to make a sort of roof covering. The sky showed no signs of rain, but one could never be too prepared.

  “The trail through the mountains is not well worn. People do not cross the borders enough, for obvious reasons,” Donovan said later that evening, as the sky turned black except for a few visible stars. Calderon stretched out on the ground and used his sack as a pillow. “I suppose the people there will not be so inclined to help us,” Calderon remarked aloud. Donovan and Velkyn made themselves as comfortable as possible on the hard ground as well. “Don’t be quick to assume,” Donovan replied. “There is not much difference between the people of our respective kingdoms. They will not know we are from Talvaard unless we share that information.”

  They remained in silence for long moments before Velkyn broke the peaceful hush. “Do you think we will succeed?” That simple question, asked with such honesty, seemed to weigh them all down heavily. “We must have faith in the Divines that we will,” answered the old monk. “Without faith, we are nothing.”

  Calderon wondered, not for the first time, if their faith might be misplaced. “Have you ever …” he started to say but instead fell silent. “Speak honestly,” Donovan bade quietly. “Have you ever wondered if, maybe, our belief in the Divines is … wrong?” Neither monk responded and so he continued. “Not that our faith in the higher powers is wrong, but that the ones we place our trust in is? I have lived in the monastery walls most of my life, and yet I have never once heard my prayers answered. Am I alone in this?”

  In the far distance, they could hear the howling of wolves. Calderon noticed then that the moon was full this night. “I suppose we have all questioned ourselves, and our faith, at some point in our lives. But the Divines do not just speak to us through prayer. They speak to us through other people, and through the holy Scriptures.” Silence fell over the three, and yet again it was Velkyn who broke it. “I have never heard my prayers answered either.”

  No one spoke after that, and eventually they all fell asleep. As Calderon’s eyes got heavy and he began to slip away into sleep, he vaguely heard “Neither have I.”

  • • •

  Daylight brought the chirping of birds and the sounds of the small town coming to life. Calderon opened his eyes and sat up to find Velkyn and Donovan missing. Their packs were still there, but he didn’t see either of them. His neck was stiff and he rubbed it for a moment before getting to his feet. He assumed they must have went into the inn to get some breakfast and started that way when he saw them coming back towards their camp. “Sleep long enough?” Velkyn asked, smiling to show he was jesting with his friend.

  “Perhaps too much,” he smiled back, rubbing his neck again. “Where did you two go?” In answer, Velkyn produced an apple and a small chunk of bread. “For you. Eat quickly though. Donovan says it will take us most of the day to reach the other side of the mountains. He wants to be in Oakvalor before dark.”

  Calderon nodded and ate, consuming the food as hurriedly as he could while still enjoying it. They strapped their packs on and untied the tree branches that had given them shelter. Donovan was right that the path was not worn, they almost missed it entirely. Once they got going, they found the trail was straight and the climb easy enough. It seemed they would make good time, until the trail began winding in wide circles and became steeper. An hour into their journey, Calderon and Donovan began to feel burning in their legs. Velkyn, being much more physically fit, was having less trouble.

  The sun crested the top of the mountain peaks and the air warmed considerably, making the three monks uncomfortable in their thick brown robes. They began to sweat profusely and eventually had to stop to rest and to eat. They didn’t talk much but focused their energy on simply making the climb. When they finally reached the peak of the trail hours later, they stopped to admire the scenery.

  They found the air was thin this high, and the clouds seemed to rest upon the surrounding peaks. It was quiet. Too quiet. It unsettled Calderon, who expected to hear the many sounds of wild animals. Calderon looked down into an enormous valley that swept from the base of the mountain and out as far as he could see. Off in the distance he could see small tendrils of smoke rising lazily into the air. “Palindrom,” Donovan said, seeing the direction where Calderon was looking. “I have heard it is a city of unrivaled beauty, where one can find the answers to almost any question.”

  “How?” Calderon asked, not taking his eyes off the distant city. “The Hall of Mirrors,” Donovan answered. “It is said that the wizards created it in the early days of discovery, when no forms of magic were prohibited. It is a hallway that contains magical mirrors that show the future. It is for that reason we go to Oakvalor. If we can get the wizards to allow us use of the Hall, it is likely we will find the dragon’s spirit.”

  “How do we get them to even hear our request?” Velkyn asked, coming to stand beside the old
monk. “That is why we seek out our brothers. They will be the ones to help us.”

  The rest of the journey was much easier as they now traveled downhill. They saw the occasional signs of what appeared to be animal crossings. At one point, Calderon thought he saw someone in his peripheral view. He stopped and searched his surroundings, but saw nothing. Shrugging, he continued down the trail. It was well past midday when they were a few hundred feet away from the valley. They still had a few hours’ worth of daylight left. As they came around a bend in the trail, they could hear voices.

  Donovan held his hand up, motioning for the two younger monks to stop. He crouched down behind a large boulder and peered down the trail. He saw a number of soldiers wearing the customary bronze armor of Oakvalor’s military. The old man looked around and knew this was the only way down. Heaving a sigh of resignation, he stood and beckoned the two young monks to follow him. They stepped into the open and continued down the trail.

  If the soldiers noticed the three monks, they didn’t act like it. When they were a stone’s throw away, one of the soldiers stepped forward. His hands were wrapped around the shaft of a spear and he placed the butt end into the dirt and leaned against it. “What is your business here?” he questioned.

  “We are on a pilgrimage,” Donovan answered, meeting the soldier’s gaze. “We have been traveling to the holy sites of the Divines.” The soldier’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, or was it confusion? “Divines?”

  The soldier drew closer to the old monk. “What is your name? And where do you hail from?”

  “My name is Donovan and I hail from a distant land,” the monk answered cryptically. “As I said, we are traveling to the holy sites of our faith, the Divines. Is that not allowed?”

  The soldier didn’t answer for long moments. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about. Who are the Divines?” That question set Donovan back on his heels. How did this soldier not know about the Divines? Even the most remote villages knew of the Divines. “We are seeking our brethren in the chapel of Hermiston.”

  “The ruins?” the soldier still seemed confused. “I am not sure what faith you follow, but here in Oakvalor we follow the Lord Aio of the Five Islands.”

  This was a surprising turn of events to Donovan. What did the soldier mean by ‘ruins’? And who was Lord Aio? “I have been gone from my home a long while,” Donovan said, lowering his voice so that Calderon and Velkyn could not hear him. “What do you mean the ruins? Has the chapel at Hermiston been destroyed?”

  The soldier shook his head. “No, not destroyed. Abandoned.” Donovan’s face turned incredulous. “What did you say your name was again?” the soldier asked.

  “Donovan.”

  The soldier scratched his beard. “Donovan … Donovan …” his face lit up with recognition. “… the Donovan?” The old monk hushed the soldier and glanced over his shoulder at his two young counterparts. “The same. I am on a mission of the utmost importance and I need to get to Hermiston.” The soldier bowed low and stepped aside, allowing the three monks to pass. Donovan shook his head in confusion. Why would the chapel be abandoned? That thought haunted him the rest of the way.

  • • •

  The Chapel of Hermiston was a tall structure of salt-and-pepper colored granite. The walls soared up roughly twenty feet high, with a taller tower at each of the four corners of the chapel. In the center of the front wall was an archway that served as the entrance. As with most of the chapels, they were constructed without gates to allow anyone entrance. The three monks made their way into the courtyard and found it eerily empty.

  “Where is everyone?” Calderon questioned aloud. Donovan didn’t have an answer. How could he know what happened? “Look around … see if you can find anyone or any sign of what might have happened,” the old monk instructed. They separated and went through the various rooms within the structure, searching everywhere. An hour later they met back in the courtyard. Velkyn shrugged his shoulders. “No signs of any kind of battle,” he said. “It doesn’t appear they left in a hurry either,” Calderon added. “Everything is intact and nothing appears to be missing.”

  Donovan considered their words but did not say anything. “This is going to hinder us getting an audience with the wizards,” Donovan finally said. “The question is, where are all the people? They couldn’t have just left.”

  “Or could they have?” Calderon responded. “There is nothing to support an attack or the threat of one. What if they all simply left? When was the last time the Abbot heard from this chapel?”

  Donovan cleared his throat. “He hasn’t.”

  Velkyn and Calderon’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean he hasn’t?” Velkyn demanded. Donovan held his hands up to calm them. “The Abbot has not heard anything from this chapel since he was ordained,” the old man paused, “and neither had his predecessor.” The two young monks stood silently. “We never thought anything ill had happened, we merely assumed they were not in need of anything from our central abbey. But this,” he swept his hand out, motioning toward the chapel, “this is disturbing to say the least.”

  “What do we do now?” Velkyn asked. Donovan gave a cursory glance about the courtyard. “We don’t have time to investigate these new revelations. We must find a way to meet with the wizards on our own.” His tone did not inspire confidence in the young monks.

  A loud clatter sounded then, and all three monks spun about quickly. A man, wearing robes and a cloak that looked similar to their own, stood staring at them. “Who are you?” Donovan questioned. “Are you a brother of this chapel?” The man shook his head but offered no explanation. “Are you following us?” Calderon asked, thinking back to the mountain path and how he thought he saw someone. Again, the man shook his head. They watched him warily, for he carried a sword across his back and they were unarmed.

  Finally, the man spoke. “I am Erasen, servant to the Lord Aio.” Donovan immediately recognized the name Aio, the same name the guard had mentioned. Who was this Aio, he wondered. “I am Donovan, and these—” he waved to the young monks “—are Calderon and Velkyn. We are brothers from the Abbey of the Divines in Talvaard.”

  “What brings you here?” Erasen asked. “Do you not know this place is forbidden?” The monks looked at each other uncertainly. “We did not know that,” Donovan answered honestly. “We have not heard from this chapel in a very long time. Why is it forbidden? Do you know what happened here?”

  Erasen laughed at them. “Truly you do not know,” he said, more of a statement than a question. “This place is forbidden for it is a place of idol worship. The Great Lord Aio taught that there is only one, and that it is he.” Seeing confusion, and possibly alarm, on the faces of the three men, Erasen grew distrustful. “Why are you here?” he asked again.

  “We could ask the same of you,” Velkyn answered. “If this place is forbidden, why do you stand in its midst?”

  That put Erasen back a step. “I am here at the behest of the Lord Aio.” Donovan raised his hand to silence what Velkyn was about to say. “We are here because this place is under the jurisdiction of the Church of the Divines,” he said. “It is not forbidden to us, it is a holy place. Your clothes are like ours, with little major differences. Do you know what happened here? We have no time to spare and we are on an important task.”

  Erasen walked over to them, his steps slow and measured at first, then bold and quick. “I do know what happened here,” he answered. “And I will tell you, but you must tell me some things as well.”

  “Very well,” said Donovan, seeing no other way to get any answers. Erasen pointed to the south. “I am from the Five Islands, where the Great Lord Aio was born one hundred and forty-three years ago. This forbidden place at one time had many people living in its walls. But they left.”

  “Left?” Donovan asked, confused. “Why would they leave? Did they build a new chapel elsewhere?” Erasen shook his head. “They left this place and the beliefs it held them to. This place represen
ts what some see as truth, but what we know as false,” he said. “There is only one, and that is the Great Lord Aio.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “They left to follow the Ai. Word of him and his deeds spread even to this place,” Erasen said. Donovan couldn’t believe it. How could anyone abandon their faith for another? Something didn’t add up. Something sinister was going on here, something far more dangerous than a dragon loose upon the land. They had already run into delays, but perhaps this Erasen would have some answers that might give them direction on their next step.

  “Let me tell you why we are here,” Donovan said. “This may take some time.”

  • • •

  She swung her sword, a deadly looking weapon, with such ease that anyone who had seen her wield it knew without doubt she was well versed with it. Her body was lithe and agile, stepping this way and that, her sword like an extension of her physical body, striking this way and that. She fought no foes this day, but instead was practicing, ensuring her body was in peak condition. She had too many enemies to count, which left her overly cautious. She dipped low, sliding her foot across the ground in a sweeping motion that would have taken the feet out from under any opponent. Without any hesitation or pause, she leapt up and spun about, kicking the same foot outward and landing back down on her feet with perfect balance.

  “Jovanna!” she heard him shout her name.

  Jovanna turned to face him, twirling a strand of her black hair with her finger and pulling it behind her ear and away from her face. “I trust you come with good news,” she said as he approached her. “M’lady,” Julian said, kneeling down before her. “Rise,” she said, motioning him to stand.

  Julian rose to his feet and brushed the dirt off his pant legs. “Well?” she demanded impatiently. He smiled at her and produced a large silver ball. There was nothing remarkable about it. “You are sure?”