The writing was getting more erratic and harder to read. The once beautiful font had digressed into a scrawl. Encer’s eyes hurt after translating for hours but still a page remained. “Today I bade my charges farewell. I go to do as the dying dragons did. I will not burden them with my body but will depart their lands to meet my fate. I will leave my journal at the towers and from there visit the lands of the humans. I can no longer use Ice Heart. Death is imminent. Perhaps only a dozen years remaining to me. Most probably less. I am comforted to know that the lizards will survive and that a piece of me lives on in Ice Heart. Forged from my essence and crafted into his shape by the dwarves he wasn’t affected like the rest of us by the curse. Each of us were forged a dwarven weapon to use in the millennium war. They protected us initially from the curse but now even I succumb.”
The final passage made Encer shiver. “On my return to the dragon towers I saw a final vision. This I know. Dragon Lords will once again walk Den'dra and a Dragon King will be crowned. Shifters they remain but they are blood bound to human and dragon. Dwarven forged steel will awaken them. Hope is not lost. Eld’or, the Night Soul has spoken.”
As Encer was recovering from the last passage Inadar entered the door. She only made a couple steps into the room before acquiring the blank expression that usually heralded a dragon’s approach. Encer having finished reading the tome closed it and followed Inadar as she departed. They arrived at the usual landing spot as not one but two dragons settled to the earth. Inadar joined Iradaemi while Encer approached Rothlt.
“Have you read the writings?” Rothlt fastened an eye on the tome in Encer’s hands.
“I did. They appear to have been written by an Eld’or?” Encer had drawn this conclusion from the name scribbled in the last passage.
“Ahh, the most revered of the Dragon Lords. So it was his writings.” Rothlt still unnerved Encer when he spoke.
“You didn’t know?”
“We suspected but were never able to discern the runes written inside to find out. He was... attached to human forms. What did you find in it?” Rothlt settled down on his belly and held his head of a height with Encer’s.
“It was written like a journal. He talked about taking care of some kind of lizard.” Encer was interrupted by a deep gravely laugh from Rothlt.
“My earliest memories were of him calling me a hopelessly clumsy lizard.” Encer was struck speechless for a moment when he realized a couple things. First this Eld’or had according to the journal and Rothlt hatched and cared for dragon hatchlings. Another was Rothlt’s extreme age
“He talked about a “black lizard” that grabbed a piece of meat and tried running off with it. In the end it got dropped into the ever burning mountain.” Rothlt again interrupted with an annoyed hiss.
“Only fading memory had saved me from the embarrassment of that incident and now I find he preserved it in his runes. No respect for dignity.”
“You were there?” Encer had trouble seeing Rothlt as small and clumsy.
“Naturally. It is why I am one of the oldest dragons. There were only six of us in that hatching. The breeding year had just started when the curse struck.”
“How long ago was that?” Encer let curiosity get the best of him.
“Many many cycles of the sun, moons and stars. Memory grows feeble of those years. The other five hatchlings have entered hibernation years ago. Only I remain to tell the young hatchlings of the Dragon Lords.”
“It talked about another two eggs. Eld’or seemed upset about something he did to them. Something about combining the blood of shifter, dragon and human. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy them so he hid them. He believed he had created an abomination.” Rothlt regarded Encer curiously as he told what he knew.
“He had no right but it might explain some. Two hidden eggs. It would have taken millennia to hatch without the ever fires.” Rothlt didn’t explode into the rage that Eld’or had expected.
“Is that what Inadar is? A Dragon Lord?” Encer inquired when Rothlt didn’t continue.
“If what you say is true then undoubtedly yes. Even I don’t know the origins of the Dragon Lords but they and dragons were always kin. If she is indeed part human then she could well be a new kind of Dragon Lord. Why she hasn’t exhibited her powers or why we haven’t sensed the other hatchling is a deep mystery.”
“The last passage said that they will be blood bound to humans and dragons and that dwarven steel will awake them.” Encer recited the section.
“Dwarven steel... Unfortunately the last Dragon Lords took the soul forged dwarven weapons to their graves. Thank you human. Your assistance has been most appreciated.” Encer jumped back after depositing the tome in Rothlt’s satchel before the black dragon lumbered to his feet and lifted off. Iradaemi joined him in the air a minute later and they winged their way into the horizon.
“What did Iradaemi have to say?” Encer walked over to where Inadar was watching them fade away.
“She wanted to know how my training was going. What did Rothlt want with you?”
“He wanted to know about the book he had lent me. Apparently he can’t read human writing.” Encer had ceased to be amazed at the dragons years ago.
“That’s silly. We will have to teach him some day. What was the book about?”
“A time long ago. About a Dragon Lord who saved them. Inadar...” She looked up into his face. “They think that you aren’t human. That you were hatched from an egg.”
“That’s ridiculous. What else would I be besides a human? Hatched from an egg. I have never heard of anything like it. Dragons can be strange sometimes.” Inadar shook her head.
*****
“The book is Eld’or’s own writings as we suspected. In them it confirms the child’s bloodlines are dragon as well as Dragon Lord. It also says that she is also part human.” Rothlt addressed Iradaemi, Setur, Ovesa and a few other dragons that were in the tower cavern.
“When will she take her place among us? She is nearing maturity and yet she shows no powers.” Ovesa asked.
“She is blood bound to dragons.”
“We knew that when she called us to her defense.” Setur interjected.
“She is also blood bound to humans.” This announcement silenced the room.
“Eld’or’s runes state that he fused his blood with dragon blood and human blood in a dragon egg. He feared what he had created so he bound it to soul forged steel. Without it they are little more than human.” A low murmur arose. Some of it was anger at the defilement of dragon eggs and some of it was confusion.
“Did it state where a soul forged blade is to be found?” Ovesa voiced over the murmur. At the words the murmur stopped.
“Sadly no. Those blades are scattered throughout the lands. Each Dragon Lord carried their blades with them to their graves. It did state that there were two of these new Dragon Lords created. The other one should have hatched by now and is out there somewhere.”
Chapter Nine
The long cold corridors of the old castle echoed with the man’s footfalls. Reigns was deep in thought as he traversed the castle on his way to his study. He had just returned from the south where he had waited in vain for his new test subject. The men who had been tasked with retrieving the individual had simply disappeared without a trace. Such had not happened for years but the risk was always present. On occasion the men were not met by the unsuspecting targets but by those skilled in the use of their Gifts. On these occasions the elite retrieval teams were assigned the task. Rarely did anyone escape for long.
The problem is that his men had simply disappeared. This hadn’t happened for about fifteen years. Without his men reporting the unusual circumstances of the retrieval then he hadn’t sent in an elite team for days. Arriving at his study Reigns settled into his chair and contemplated the heap of official papers that littered his desk.
Reigns began the daunting task of organizing the documents by importance, date and sender. Soon enough the desk had a semblanc
e of order to it. His personal correspondences were in one stack and the kingdom related documents were in another. Personal documents first he started reading.
The first one he had set aside was from the commander of the elite team sent into the mountain village after the first team had failed to return. It explained that there was no trace of the missing soldiers and that the target had been killed in a house fire. Further reading told of how four horses had been found in the mountains that were of the same breed as those that had been sent. Their iron shod hooves finished the identification.
Now Reigns was in a quandary. Here he was being told that his target was dead yet his soldiers had abandoned their team of horses and vanished without a trace. Things didn’t add up. Everything pointed to a cover-up. The other problem that presented itself was that if the target had escaped then he was dangerous and probably wouldn’t be brought in alive. Even worse was that his mean reported that if there was a trail then it was long since cold.
Reigns drafted a letter to his spymaster instructing him to be on the lookout for an individual matching the target’s description. Returning to the original letter for the description he was surprised to note that the target was little more than a boy. Musing on this he wasn’t sure what to think. The average boy gifted or not was far from able enough to dispose of four well trained soldiers single handedly. The letter had said that here had been two bodies in the fire. Could the boy have had help? It was unlikely that the drunk described as his father would have been capable of killing four soldiers unless... If the son was gifted then it was possible the father was also gifted.
At any rate the spy master was informed to watch for a blond haired blue eyed youth accompanied by an older individual appearing like a beggar. Extreme care was cautioned. Reigns didn’t want to risk losing his targets again. He sealed the letter and called a page to deliver the document. He was confident that his vast net would be closing around the fugitives soon enough. No other spy network was as well developed as his. The tendrils of information reached into every village throughout the kingdom and beyond.
Another order of business was the report of a village in the Vaulwar Mountains. This report had come from a dying retired soldier in an obscure village north of the Draeld Swamps. The man admitted to having deserted his company when attacked by dragons. Reigns remember the incident well. The report had come from another survivor of the massacre. The first survivor had died of his wounds after he had mumbled something about chasing a target into the mountains and being set on by dragons. Reigns hadn’t wasted able bodied men on trying to retrieve the dead and so had written off the incident as commander Verkal’s folly. Now this tale told by another dying survivor spoke a village that they had stumbled upon. The target had been dispatched and Verkal had attempted to find how the villagers had escaped the dragons. A girl was said to have called a legion of angry dragons from the sky. The dragons had only harmed the soldiers or so the tale read.
A girl called the dragons. The line irked him as he repeated it. He got up and walked to a bookcase that filled one wall. An especially old volume was selected and Reigns flipped through the pages. At last he found the page he wanted and scanned it. It was a brief description of the first race to walk Den'dra. The shifters they were called. It was said that they numbered thirteen until they had found a lone dragon born from the fires of the ever burning mountain. The thirteenth shifter having grown tired of his existence had taken the form of a dragon egg and hatched out as female dragon. From these two dragons all dragons came. Because of the thirteenth shifter’s sacrifice the dragons called the remaining shifters Dragon Lords and shared their wings with the shifters. From that time the Dragons Lords and dragons had been kin and each would heed the call of the other.
The validity of the passage was not doubted. It was a translation of some of the oldest manuscripts ever written and perhaps given to the translator’s dramatizing but undoubtedly described actual events. From other sources it was well known that the ancient Dragon Lords numbered twelve until the end of the Millennium wars. At that point they had disappeared leaving only their legendary weapons behind. They had long since faded from the memories of the humans of the short lives but still the records remained to those who were in power.
A disturbing assertion had been made by the last living Dragon Lord before his death. He had claimed that his kind would once again walk on the soils of Den'dra and soar her skies. Most alarmingly he said that a Dragon Lord would be crowned. This annoyed Reigns to no end. He held in his bookcase an account of the Dragon Lord’s death. The man had again repeated his prediction of a Dragon King and then had told his attendants that the new Dragon Lords would be bound until they were freed by soul forged steel.
Reigns wasn’t one to have gathered power only to hand it over to another. His elven blood had allowed him to consolidate power for generations of humans. Little stood between him and absolute power now. Illiad had been a useful tool in his time. Reigns grew curious about the soul forged weapons and taking a torch began descending to the castle basement. While he went he reviewed the past.
Reigns had reached a position of influence with the king after countless years of trials. He had worked his way from humble roots in a village in the midlands. His mother had been human but his father on the other hand. He knew nothing about the individual who had contributed to his existence other than that he was elven. At first on making this discovery Reigns had moved from place to place hiding his lack of aging. Not entirely a lack only a slow progression. A full blooded elf didn’t age however a half blood was subject to the whims of time. Still after a full century and a half he was what most would call middle aged human. The distinctive elven traits were missing for the most part. Reaching a stairwell Reigns descended further.
A few score years in the past he had ceased his wanderings and attached himself to the caravan of a noble. Having become well learned in his wanderings Reigns was soon admitted to the court. After that point only a score of years had passed before Reigns had become a trusted advisor to the old king. Then Illiad had ascended to the crown.
At that time the kingdom had been a scattering of provinces each ruled independently of each other. Illiad had proven a charismatic leader and through him the whole of the Braebach had come under the crown. The King had become satisfied with ruling all the humans on Den'dra and had recalled his armies against Reigns advice. Since that eye opening occasion Reigns had slowly been acquiring more and more power. Now only the King was more powerful in name than himself but in truth Reigns had no equal. Now the King lay in his chambers and never bothered Reigns as the chancellor conducted the business of the kingdom.
Truthfully Reigns had been forced to keep the man occupied in the past. Grievously the man had fallen in love and wooed the maiden of his choice. Between hunts and carnivals the King had still found time to make trouble for Reign’s plans. Worst of all had been the bearing of an heir by the queen. Reign’s aspirations of sitting the throne himself had then been ground to ashes. The maiden had been so considerate as to die after giving birth so Reigns had not needed to worry about her.
In hindsight Reigns was glad that Em'risi had been born. The princess took after her mother far more than after her father. The main reason was that Illiad was the people’s King. At first he had consolidated the empire and promoted trade. The empire had flourished in a time of peace. The people were now under Reign’s control but they still looked to the King for leadership. The King no longer troubled Reign’s schemes and a few daily drops of a special elixir assure the chancellor that the man would remain alive but confined to his chambers for everything but the infrequent public appearances. Em'risi would be easier to control as she had no political aspirations. When she took the throne, it would only be for the benefit of the people. All the real power was in Reign’s hands.
Reaching his destination Reigns lit his torch from one that burned in the wall. A key was produced and fitted into a small hole in the wall. Assuring himself that n
o one was watching the man pushed the key and a section of the wall slid away soundlessly. After stepping inside the wall slid back into place leaving Reigns in a pool of light from his torch. The secret corridor opened into a room a few paces further on. Inside Reigns appraised his collection of treasures.
On the wall hung nine of the twelve soul forged weapons. Each one was a masterpiece of art as well as an expertly crafted weapon. Swords, pole arm, staff and daggers. The staff had been difficult to retrieve. The Gifted that had wielded it had taken out half a battalion before the man had been killed. Eye witnesses had described it as glimmering with light as the man used it. Without it the man was hardly a match for one soldier. Now as Reigns caressed its elaborate engraved designs it remained cold to the touch. The runes along the length were expertly shaped into the fingers of flame that shifted and danced in the flickering light of the torch.
The set of daggers had been found on a street thief. Reputedly they had sliced through heavy plate steel before a lucky blow had felled the thief. They were indeed sharp but no sharper than any well-honed blade in Reign’s hands. It seemed that humans, especially those gifted, could coax the weapons to life. A few had already been in the king's treasury from ages past. A warhammer, broadsword and battle ax had been retrieved from ancient graves but they all showed the hand of the same artisan crafter. The elegant shapes and designs, perfect balance and untarnishable metal taunted Reigns.
Still three of the legendary creations eluded him. One had hung at the belt of the shadow reaper. Reigns hissed at the memory. A blade like that being used by a common assassin. The blade had almost been in his hands fifteen years ago. The plan if successful would have planted Reigns on the throne and the tenth soul forged weapon in his collection. The miserable human must have carried the blade into the mountains where he had died. Ice Heart must still be out there buried under unmelting glaciers with the bones of its erstwhile master.