Read The Dragon God Page 18


  Thanks to the broken curse of the Burning Forest, El’Korr and Rondee were granted the innate ability to summon fire. They broke away with their weapons ignited. El’Korr hurled his magical warhammer and it toppled end over end until finding its mark. It slammed into the right leg of the pearlescent creature who had just zoomed past them. Glistening scales shattered and fell. The beast craned its neck while in flight to see who had damaged it. Rondee did not have a missile weapon, but instead waited for it to come back around for another attack.

  Xan made his way toward Trillius, longsword drawn, “Take cover, Trillius!”

  The gnome crossed his arms, confidently smiling, “My dear Xan, the time has come for you to witness the true power of the Great Trillius.”

  The elf watched as the dragon that stood behind the gnome ignored Trillius and flew toward the other two serpents, crashing into one and engaging it with a claw-raking frenzy until it fell to the ground. The third shot passed the jumbled mess of its kin and narrowed in on the dwarves instead.

  Raina quickly launched another invocation. Rays of scorching heat sprouted from her fingertips and bore into the beast, melting its scales. With its flesh sizzling, it screeched in pain, but continued its attack with alabaster eyes focused on Rondee, who frantically waved his arms around to grab the attention of the beast.

  The wild dwarf stood his ground, pointed his tiny golden hammer toward it and felt the surge of his wild magic bursting from inside him. His arms vibrated and then his entire body transformed. Skin, clothes, armor, and weapon, all morphed into a gigantic steel-tipped spear anchored into the ground.

  The dragon flew into the suddenly changed dwarf, impaled itself, and toppled to the floor of the cave, crashing through iced stalagmites, lifeless. Raina, El’Korr, and Xan ran to the carnage and watched the pointed tip of the spear sticking through the neck of the dragon, convert back to Rondee the Wild. He smiled, his yellow teeth prominently glowing amongst the gore, as blood dripped down his face. His head was all they could see as the rest of his body was stuck inside the fallen creature.

  Echoed claps resounded behind them. They turned to see Trillius applauding the outcome. “Very entertaining.”

  Rozelle had moved closer to her partner while the fighting had gone on, thinking she would protect him, “What are you doing, Trillius?”

  He smiled down at her. His eyes glowed a bright blue. She backed away, fearful. The other two dragons continued their internal fighting in the background. Each had deadlocked jaws into the other’s body in an all-out death grapple.

  El’Korr and Xan cut open the dead dragon to release Rondee, who shook the guts and blood from himself and scraped off larger chunks from his arms and chest. Raina kept her wary eyes on Trillius. The heroes gathered next to Rozelle.

  Raina addressed the male gnome, “Trillius, are you okay?”

  He scoffed, “Of course I’m okay. I feel great!”

  Rozelle said, “What’s going on Trillius? You are different.”

  Trillius took a proud stance, “I am no longer weak, and all those who stand against me will feel the wrath of my power.” Electrical snaps sparkled in his eyes.

  “You have to fight, Trillius; don’t let it overcome you,” Raina commanded.

  “My dear little-Elf, you have no more say over me. You are indeed powerful, but the time is coming when you will bow before me. All of you will bow before me.” Trillius laughed as he raised his arms, and a bolt of lightning materialized. The heroes quickly turned away from the intense light. With a booming crack of thunder, Trillius instantly disappeared.

  El’Korr, reacting to Trillius’ disappearance, approached Raina, “Who was that? It sure wasn’t Trillius.”

  “Trillius has succumbed to the power of an ancient soul of a blue-wyrm. He has the fifth dragon stone.”

  “What do you mean succumb to the power?” Rozelle asked.

  “The dragons held captive within these stones are the most powerful of the entire realm. They look for the weak minded so they can dominate them. Only those with the strongest will can compete with the warring spirit, but even then it is a constant battle.”

  Xan joined the group, “Where did he acquire it?”

  “I suspect it was at the time he found the Pearl. We all noticed how his attitude shifted after the kelpie encounter. Even Captain Romann saw a change in him.”

  “We have to save him! Stupid Trillius. He has a sickness, Raina.”

  “What ailment do you speak of, Rozelle?”

  “He can’t stop stealing things. He is always in search of the next big thing.”

  “But where did he go? How are we supposed to find him?” asked El’Korr.

  “In order for the dragon to come back, which is its ultimate goal, it would have gone to the Chamber of Cleansing.”

  “But why?” Xan asked, puzzled.

  “From what I have gathered, the chamber was used as a conduit in conjunction with the elements to summon, entrap, and then banish the dragon god.”

  “But we can use the elements to destroy the blue rock, right?”

  Raina paused, “Yes, but,” she turned to Rozelle before continuing, “I am uncertain as to what will happen to Trillius.”

  Rozelle began to walk away. Glancing over her shoulder she cried, “C’mon, we need to get him back before it is too late. He is a thief on the run, nothing else. I know that his mind is still in there fighting this dragon entity.”

  “You understand, now that he has the fifth stone, the other dragon spirits will be coming. It will be difficult to get to Trillius and destroy it before it destroys him.”

  “Then why are we still here talking about it? Come on, let’s go,” Rozelle snapped.

  They marched on across the immense chamber to find a marked tunnel. Four symbols, indicating the four elements, surrounded a star in the middle.

  El’Korr lingered at the back of the group with Rondee. He spoke to his guardian in Dwarvish so the others could not understand, “Rondee, do what you have to do in order to stop Trillius. This Dragon God cannot come back.”

  Rondee the Wild nodded his understanding.

  Unbeknownst to the dwarves, Rozelle understood most of the languages in the realms, including the dwarven tongue. “They don’t understand you Trillius. You do have good in you. I won’t let them hurt you,” she thought to herself. The entire situation caused anger to boil inside of her, but regardless, her anger was focused on Trillius and this blue stone that had corrupted his mind.

  Trillius appeared inside the doorway to the Chamber of Cleansing. Blue electrical discharges snapped around his body and his eyes were brighter than ever. He surveyed the room. It was circular: four stone pedestals surrounded a gaping hole in the earth almost as large as the room itself, where it plunged into an unknown depth. A catwalk archway, inscribed with ancient runes, ran across the middle of the opening. At the apex of the curved walkway was another pedestal with five colored markers that looked like clawed hands to hold the dragon stones. Trillius stepped forward and peered down, seeing a swirling black and grey cloud, like a whirlpool, moving slowly.

  Dal Draydian’s voice vibrated excitedly in Trillius’ mind, “I can sense the other spirits coming. Now place me in my position in the center of the room, bondserv-ant, where I will be set free.”

  “Bondservant?” Trillius felt groggy, trying to comprehend why something didn’t quite feel right. “Oh yeah, I guess I am a bondservant,” the queasy feeling passing as he relaxed into the idea. “I wish Rozelle were here; she always takes care of me when I feel sick. Hey- where is Rozelle anyway?” His mind and body began to ache in the swirl of confusion. The gnome felt as if he was losing control of himself. “Where are all my friends?”

  “Friends? I’m your only friend now. You have been picked on by every race, you have been unloved by your own family, no one knows you like I do, and no one will give you what I can give you. Riches!”

  Fighting against the power in his brain, touching his temples and scrunching h
is face, Trillius cried, “No, it can’t be true. They like me, I’m different than the others, but they still like me. I can’t see them get hurt.”

  Suddenly, a forgotten memory flooded into the forefront of his mind as Dal-Draydian manipulated the gnomes deepest and darkest secrets. Trillius was huddled in the corner of a dark room, arms wrapped around his knees, and his head buried between them. Muffled yelling slowly transformed into his father’s voice. Trillius was young and fear gripped him in his solitude. Then the blocked words hurdled toward his heart from his father, “I wish it was he that was dead and not my oldest boy! He is a waste of the air we breathe and is no son of mine!”

  Dal-Draydian’s voice slipped in, soothing and confident, “I know your pains, Trillius. It is time for you to make your father proud of you as I am proud of you. We are now family, something you have always wanted. Take your destiny back and be free from the bondage of your past.”

  Trillius lifted his tear streaked face, slowly smiled and took his first step onto the arch.

  The black robed mystic stood with the assassin, Daysho Gunsen, and two other hired bodyguards on a ledge overlooking the Guul-Fenn Mountains. Before them, waited an icicle covered cave entrance.

  “Raina was here. I can smell her lingering magic,” Veric’s words bit like the cold wind.

  “I will retrieve the last of the stones from the gnome,” Daysho responded.

  Veric pointed toward the opening, like a commander giving orders. The two leather-armored humans nodded and entered, followed by the assassin and the wizard.

  Daysho approached the hour that would change his life forever. It had taken him years to gain Veric’s trust. The wizard was careful and calculating with those he worked with, as he should be. Daysho heard of Romann de Beaux’s hatred toward the West Horn King’s daughter, Ravana, and set his determined plan into action by contacting the vampire. The deal was to bring him Veric’s head in exchange for Romann to usher Daysho into the blood-sucking family. As to why Romann wanted his head was no concern of his, perhaps to send the King a message. His chance to have the mystic distracted was forthcoming. He would only have one chance, one moment, but he needed to be patient and wait for the spell-slinger to drain his power enough that he could strike without his intent being detected. Veric was extremely powerful and Daysho had no desire of losing his life this day. The human assassin brought his black cowl to drape his face and to hide his smirk. The group traversed the icy terrain a few miles until reaching the breathtaking chamber where Raina and the others had recently been.

  “I smell death,” Daysho whispered.

  Veric turned to respond, but stopped short when the assassin was gone. The evil mage quickly spotted a blurred, near-invisible form moving deeper into the chamber. Veric nodded for the other men to move out.

  At the center of the subterranean area, they found the body of a white dragon. Its red blood, now frozen amongst the rocky terrain, contrasted with the bluish ice in the cavern. The back of its head was completely blown out. Its beige tongue hung out of the jaw and pearlescent eyes were foggy and lifeless. Scorched blast marks peppered the rest of its body.

  Daysho, now visible, spoke as he approached Veric, who surveyed the fallen beast, “There are two more, further on, both dead. They apparently fought each other to the death.”

  “This one was killed by magic, combined with a strange weapon of some kind,” Veric determined.

  “Could it have been this elven mystic, Raina?”

  “She is powerful. Be mindful of her before you strike.”

  Daysho intently stared at Veric, “Of course,” he answered, but it was Veric’s power he would be mindful of instead.

  “The dragon entities can sense each other; the Dal-Draydian awaits us at the Chamber. Come, this way.”

  A small unit of frost dwarves ushered others along the tunnel walls out of striking distance of the risen Manasseh. Abawken, preparing for the coming battle, gripped his scimitar and moved into a protective position in front of his friends, saying, “Since his return from the dead, we can’t be certain of how much of his former power he has retained. Be mindful, Master Bridazak.”

  There were still hundreds of dwarves mingled within the other races. All were trying to escape the goblin tunnels; the horde would be coming.

  Bridazak stepped forward, “Manasseh, what do you want?”

  “Your head on a spit!”

  “His head is perfect where it is,” Spilf jumped in.

  Dulgin raised an eyebrow, “Good one, Stubby.”

  “You thought you destroyed the Orb, Manasseh, but you, in fact, set it free. I had nothing to do with your fall. It was by your own hands.”

  “No!” Manasseh countered, “It all started with you and now it will end with you.”

  “There is nothing to gain by my death. Your reign is over.”

  “None of that matters, only your—.”

  Suddenly, a steel-tipped spear pierced through Manasseh’s chest, interrupting his threat. Stunned, Manasseh looked down at his black blood covering the weapon and fell to his knees. The restored Morthkin stood triumphantly behind him, gleaming in his full plate armor, white hair as bright as snow, and icicles dripping off of his beard.

  Manasseh, dropping his sword, grabbed the shaft of the spear with both hands and slowly began pulling the lance from his body. An evil laugh bellowed from under his dark helmet.

  King Morthkin spoke, his voice was deep, “You must hurry. This man before you is cursed, and can only die by the hands of the one from whom he seeks revenge.” Everyone turned to look at Bridazak, but Morthkin continued, “Take the Sky Diamond to the Kouzfhan. It must be set into its place in order to return its power to my people, and for us to deal with the coming horde.”

  “Where is this place?” Spilf questioned, still shocked by what was taking place. Seeing Manasseh face to face again, and recalling all those days of torture he had endured inside his dungeon, unnerved him.

  “Not far, but you need to leave now!” He commanded. “I will only be able to hold him back for a short while. Manasseh will follow you to the Chamber. It is there you will defeat him by sending him into the Pit of Darkness. You will know when you see it. Now go!”

  Abawken led the way as King Morthkin and other frost dwarves pointed the direction. Dulgin paused beside the noble dwarf leader, holding the Sky Diamond, and said proudly, “I know what needs to be done.”

  The frost king nodded.

  Just then, Manasseh pulled the last part of the spear out of his body and tossed it away. The black blood that had gushed from the wound, slowly receded as the gaping hole magically sealed. He grabbed his two-handed sword and rose to his feet once again. Dulgin moved quickly out of the area, but turned to see Morthkin launching hammers of ice supernaturally from his hands. Manasseh’s roar echoed down the halls.

  Spilf and Bridazak reached the massive double-door first. The iron portal, with layers of gold melded into it, formed intricate designs and images of dwarves holding shields. White gold emblazoning the trim of the pictures brought an aura of power to the depictions.

  Spilf withdrew his trusty thieves tools, Lester and Ross. “Okay boys, time to work your magic.”

  The dak heard the magical picks voices cheering within his mind.

  The telepathic voice of Lester spoke first, “This is quite a find, Master.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Tell him, Lester. Boy, what a find.”

  “I’m going to, Ross. Stop repeating what I say. You know if you would just listen more and—”

  Spilf cut him off, “We are in a bit of a hurry, what is it?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. This door has twelve distinct traps for those coming and going through it.”

  “You can disarm them, right?”

  “Lester, did he just ask us that?”

  “Ross, quiet. Yes, of course we can disarm them, but it will take us a good amount of time.”

  Spilf responded, “Then get going. Whi
ch one first?”

  “Let’s start with the worst one, the Death Blast.”

  “C’mon Lester, let’s put another notch on our belt.”

  Spilf mentally understood their direction as the picks and his mind linked to the desired location. Lester responded, “Ross, we don’t wear belts.”

  “I know, but I heard one of our masters say it before.”

  “Ross, he was skinny, that is why he said it. He literally needed to make another notch in his belt to keep his pants on.”

  “But why did he say it each time we helped him?”

  “He was cursed Ross, remember? The witch he partnered with put a spell on him; he didn’t know he would lose weight each time he performed any kind of thieving after he stole her necklace.”

  “Oh, I had no idea. I liked that necklace, what did it call itself again?”

  “She called herself Veera. She was kind of creepy.”

  “That’s right, Veera. Yeah, she had some nice craftsmanship.”

  “Wow Ross, I never knew you took notice of her design like that.”

  “I’m only a pick, Lester. Even I recognize beauty when I see it. The facets of her jewels were so perfect.”

  “Yeah, she did have nice jewels, that is for sure.”

  Spilf interjected, “Guys, can you rehash your love interests another time. We seriously need to get through this door.”

  “Okay, one death trap now dissolved. Onto the Disintegration.”

  “Uh-oh, Lester. Here comes Grumpy.”

  Dulgin entered, holding the Sky Diamond in his cupped hands. Abawken walked backward, making sure his friends were protected in case Manasseh showed up. He recalled his weeks of practicing his mind link with Raina, but he struggled to access it with the stress of the situation, “I wish you were here, Raina,” he thought. The burly red-bearded dwarf walked to the door. Spilf lurched backwards when several clicks inside the iron beast resounded as mechanisms of multiple locks tumbled. The gateway opened, revealing an ice covered cavern.