“There is a paradox concerning trusting a Wyvern. These creatures are vast in size and would crush you rather than debate philosophy. They suffer fools lightly and have a tendency to cut to the chase. Many are chaotic in nature, but this is not true for all. If, by chance, you encounter such a beast tread carefully.” Jeremiah Delalande on “The Nature of the Beast.”
“And it’s the same the whole world ’round
The hurt I see helps to compound
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Is just somebody’s unholy hoax
And if you’re up there, you’ll perceive
That my heart’s here upon my sleeve
If there’s one thing I don’t believe inIt’s you
Dear God, XTC. Soundtrack from IT, Stephen King
Dear God”
“We had a bond that was stronger than they could ever comprehend
We are one, we could do anything if you just hold my hand
We had a bond that was stronger than they could ever comprehend
And you know that people fear what they don’t quite understandRose Red, Rose Red, Rose Red
Blackbriar, Snow White, Rose Red
Snow White, Snow White, Snow White.”
“There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable..”
Mark Twain
This is another short story for this month’s prompt as I explore the world of Dragon Stone.
Dragon Stone: Rune Lock
Naz woke to a head that felt like he’d been on StormBringer the night before. Dazed, he tried to stand but staggered backwards. The last thing he remembered was The Malachite dragging the chains from the anchor stone that sank back into the rune lock. Of the Wyvern, there was no sign. Panic flared as the only egress was the tunnel to where Yish and Angelica rested. Adrenaline displaced the pain in his head. Rising, he unslung his axe and cautiously approached the tunnel.
Nothing sounded wrong, which in itself spelt trouble. Even deep mines carried noise. Dripping water and echoes of tools or voices. The Malachite was dragging a chain so why did it sound like a tomb? He peered into the gloom of the tunnel leading to the antechamber where Yish and Angelica should be. As with the journey here, there was a dim light in the distance. His head still felt like thunder, so he took some willow bark from his gunna and began masticating while he considered the best course of action. Not really a good use of time, as the only route out that he knew of was in the deadlight chamber. That meant he had no choice but to follow the passage back.
Cursing, he spat the sodden willow bark out and risked breaking his neck on the accursed route back. If not for the Wyvern’s scratching, then it would have been an impossible task. Naz replaced the Malachite Stone inside his tunic where it rested against that of The Sapphire. Two Dragon Stones, neither of which he wanted. Not to mention the staff, which was slung across his back, he didn’t need to look to know The Sapphire’s avatar was grinning. More likely mocking, he thought.
With some effort, he forced himself forward. It seemed trouble had become a familiar friend since setting off from Tor Angra, not to mention collecting Stones that marked them as targets for the Nafudian Hunters.
As he approached the antechamber steps he slowed and cautiously moved up the ancient steps. Time and history flooded into his mind. Cloaked priests descending passed through him and disappeared toward the Dragon’s prison. On their backs was an unknown sigil. The web of a spider with a great red eye at the centre. As they moved, a sense of dread filled him. It was as if a great psychic drain had torn away all hope. It remained until the shades entered the lower chamber. As they passed down steps appeared before becoming the glass surface of the present.
Naz blinked as life returned. It seemed that cults existed in times past leaving no written record that they ever existed. Apart from the Magi of Enigma, they belonged to the Necromage. One that had deceived both the elf and him into freeing the abomination from a conjurer’s trap hidden inside yet another mountain. Coincide? He thought not.
As he reached the antechamber, more silence greeted him. There was no sign of a witch or elf. The Malachite rested curled up against the entrance tunnel, its eyes fixed upon him.
Took your time fool.
“Aye, but then you were careless casting the chains off.”
You were sluggish dwarf. The elf would have stood aside.
“Maybe Dragon. But where are they?”
Gone as I arrived.
Naz glanced at the deadlight tunnel. If Yish had heard the Wyvern escape, she might have dragged Angelica to the Elder Portal.
“And you Dragon. Free you may be, but I see no way large enough to leave this place.”
Fool you have my Stone. The Magi of olde created these. Do none remember why?
Naz shrugged. He did rock and ore. Yish was the historian.
The Wyvern look on in disdain. Take it to the Elder Portal. Use my Heartstone to activate it and pass through the Gate. The dwarf looked bemused. How do you imagine the Elder Dragon Riders moved their steeds between worlds?
“With large passages and courage.”
The Malachite almost smirked. Such small minds had limited understanding. With some deliberation, it began to uncurl. Vast fettles fell to the floor in heaps. Go, fool. Find the Gate, and let us begone.
“Aye, and if it opens beneath an ocean or rock face, then we are doomed.”
As we are remaining here.
It was a fair point. Besides, if the witch and Yish were anywhere, then they were already beyond the portal or half-dead somewhere amongst the deadlights. Naz looked at the Wyvern and steeled himself. Thus far, it had not turned him to ash. Wield the Stone, tame the Dragon. An olde saying that had also lost its true meaning in time. Though he carried two Dragon Stones gave little confidence that taming was the right term.
With a sigh, he turned to the passage last trodden with Yish. Halfway down, he knew there was a side tunnel leading to an upper gantry. One he could take and trust to dwarven architecture to find a route to the surface. It required climbing, though, and neither Yish nor Angelica could have taken that path. Logic said they were at the portal. Whether either was able to use it, he knew not. If they had, then any hope of finding them was slipping like an uncontrollable avalanche and pinned hope on linear temporal Gates. If rune combinations were coordinates then he had no idea which sequence to use.
That meant trusting the Malachite. Insert the Stone and rely on destiny. What it might do on true escape was another unknown. Looking up, he saw the deadlights, ebbing and flowing. A temptation or lure?
No choice dwarf. This mountain has consumed the guardhouse, and the way out is closed.
Naz knew it wasn’t his mind the Wyvern was reading. Body language alone was gifting it that. “Aye Dragon. If this fails you and I will lie here as bones in the dust until the next dotards decide to enter.”
With some effort, he set off toward the portal chamber. Without Yish, the deadlights would linger like crows over a carcass. Then again The Sapphire Stone had revoked them to the shadows last time. He drew it out, feeling like a failed priest wielding a cross. Claws in his back reminded him that The Sapphire was awake and watching.
He passed the hidden recess that was once used to gain access to the upper gantry. A possible way out if he knew the ancient dwarven artisans. Few left a single exit. Then again, few encountered a living mountain. Ahead was the portal chamber. No sign of Yish or Angelica. That suggested two things. One that the Dragon’s Breath had not caused as much damage to the tune keys as first thought. The other was that it had, and The Malachite had consumed them. That thought he shoved deep into his mind. Without Yish, he was nothing.
Inside, the deadlights withered into the shadows. He held the Sapphire Stone aloft just in case. It was the ward of the priest, except faith here was resting on finding the elf.
He approached the runes. As the Wyvern had foretold, in the centre was an empty lock crafted in the shape of a Stone. He took out the Malachite Heartstone and placed it into the vacant recess. As he did so, it sank into the dais. Ozone filled the chamber as the Gate filled with mist before solidifying. It seemed the Stone knew what to do after all. He watched as each rune illuminated before the Stone emerged from the rock. He grabbed it, drew breath and stepped into the portal.
The horizon disappeared into the distance. Disorientation and nausea soon followed, reminding him of the last time he was ejected into a landscape that soon turned to ice and snow as he approached the ruins of the Keep. Dehydration soon followed as Naz emerged into another alien landscape. There was no sign of the witch or elf, but ahead was a cliff. Below that ruination, a land scoured of life. As he staggered forward, there was a deafening crack, and more ozone rendered the air almost unbreathable.
Glancing back, he saw the mighty Malachite shining under the sun. Even the chains shimmered like a heat haze.
Not quite a fool then dwarf.
Naz spat on the ground. “Not my doing Dragon. I have no idea where we are.”
The Malachite rose on its hind legs. Then a fool you are dwarf. This is the aftermath of the destruction of my kind. Pray the guardian of the Boneyard is not here.
Steadying himself, Naz looked at the dust and ash with fresh eyes. The genocide field had been scourged clean by The Black. This was myth and lore made real, the very place Yish had been after the portal trap separated them so long ago. Glancing up, he saw the ledge she had once climbed. If he remembered true, then within the cave was yet another Elder Portal, one she had overcome vertigo to reach. That was the last time they had been apart in centuries.
It brought back memories of Raz when the concussion wave disrupted an army of elite soldiers. Threw them aside, leaving the dark horde to take the girl. He wondered what had happened to her with some sadness. Likewise, Raz. They had picked up his trail to see it vanish in the foothills of yet another mountain. Naz vowed to seek them both out once this nightmare was over.
“Do you sense it Dragon?”
No. It is far away on the other side of the Dragon Gate. I see an obsidian tower and others hiding within. A wizard, Dökkálfar and. It paused, bemused. Ljósálfar elf chyle.
“Strange times.”
The Malachite turned its head. Vast crimson eyes bore down on the dwarf. Strange now fool. The past is rich in oddities that defy logic. Most are perverted by those misunderstanding ancient lore and the messages within.
“Aye and it is why nothing changes.”
Not so. Light and Dark battle eternally, each vying for control. Gods are warmongers who use angels and daemons as their warriors. Only misguided men misjudge this, as they crave positions of power. Their armies are avarice and false words.
“Paid for by the lives of those under them,” Naz recalled the Guild Stewards. Aloof and grinning as if life owed them a debt.
The Dragon tasted the air. We are not alone dwarf. Something nearby is hunting.
“What do you suggest?”
The lesser of two options.
“Which are?”
We either pass through the Dragon Gate and into the Boneyard of my ancestors again. There was a pause as the Wyvern scanned the horizon. Or we slay those who dare to tread on this sacred earth.
“The Gate then.” Naz never liked unknown confrontations. Not fear, but wariness. Know thine enemy. If in doubt, fly until time befits engagement.
The Malachite stood. The chains dragged as the beast moved closer. Fool that is the antithesis of my words. The Gate leads to The Black. Another also flies with him. Upon the Chaos Dragon’s back rides a Hybrid. Would you rather face them?
The lesser unknown. Hunters he had encountered and always had they run. That was not the way before, not with Raz, Sorcerer’s Hill or any number of encounters. “Then let us make these hunters prey.”
Spoken like a rider of Dragons dwarf. The Malachite lowered its belly to the ground. Let us see how you fair now.
If Naz didn’t know better, he’d say the Wyvern was goading him.
Little point proving you are a fool when you meet The Sapphire.
Naz was taken aback. Again, he did not need to look to see that The Sapphire’s avatar was grinning in agreement. With a sigh of acceptance, he moved toward the Wyvern before realising he had no idea how to mount a Dragon.
BLOGBATTLE prompt word Familiar
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