Chapter 15. Arios
The prince of the Plain Countries was sitting on the stone, his chin supported with the sword’s hilt. His eyes were focused at the unyielding darkness, which was mercifully hiding the demon army, but he was seeing the landscape of memories. Now, when death was here, this time for certain, the memory of the days past brought him strange comfort. Meaningless, sweet remembrances from days of youth protected his mind from the black nothingness which surrounded him. He wanted to escape from this dreadful place, to get there, but that was impossible.
All activities in the camp of the defenders stopped. Everyone listened intensely to every sound, waiting the beginning of the attack. The Lord of Doom himself was there; he arrived in the evening, riding his enormous war horse self-confidently among his servants. No one among the refugees could even suppose what he intended to do. They knew only it will happen soon.
And then, Orin saw a pale light in the sky, like an apparition. At first, it was just a dim spot on the perfect fabric of the night, then it became stronger, ever stronger, and suddenly, the layers of darkness were melted, and on the horizon, like a spectre, appeared one familiar shape, silhouette which guided him all this time through the Blue Mountains and further, the impossible, magnificent Dragon Rock. The prince jumped from the ground, astonished.
“What…?” uttered he, almost breathless. He turned around. People in the camp were not behaving like they saw something unusual, but the Rock was still clearly visible on the vague background.
“This is a dream,” muttered the prince quietly. “It’s impossible.”
“Orin.”
A bodiless voice spoke his name, almost inaudibly, carefully, like it was trying not to hurt him. The voice belonged to the one who could not be alive any more. The prince turned around carefully, not knowing what awaited him. Arios was standing peacefully, transparent, his body woven of the night’s mist, watching the prince straight in the eyes, smiling.
“You...are alive,” uttered Orin. ”How...?”
“It’s not so simple,” said the sorcerer. The voice was coming from his direction, but the prince was somehow sure that he was the only one who could hear it.
“Life is a very broad concept.”
“What is happening?” asked Orin quietly.
“Only what was bound to happen,” replied Arios. “We don’t have much time. The Lord of Doom will attack soon.”
“How do you know? Are you under his power? Did he enslave your soul?”
Arios smiled. “How much are you willing to sacrifice yourself, to save the world?” asked he instead of answering.
“It seems I’ll give my life for much less,” said the prince. “In fact, for my own honour. I could leave with the Hunters, you know. I still can, if I want. The only thing is, I don’t think I could live with it.”
“You wouldn’t escape,” said the sorcerer. “The Lord’s beasts wait for the Hunters on the tops of the cliffs.”
“How do you know that? What have you become? Is this your magic?”
“No, this isn’t magic. Do you remember why we started our journey?”
“Of course - to find the secret of the ultimate power. To get the Ring of the Kings from the dragons.” Orin was utterly confused. A thousand questions whirled in his head, and there was not enough time for any. “You wouldn’t mind telling me what’s happening, would you?”
Arios smiled and extended his hand. Suddenly, he was standing, or maybe floating, only a step away from the prince, who retreated back in fear. On the index finger of the right hand, transparent like the rest of the body, shone a small, simple black ring.
“This is...?” whispered Orin, reaching with his hand. It went through the sorcerer’s hand, and enclosed around the ring, which was solid.
“How will you use it? Have you brought it to me?” said the prince, almost breathlessly. The object of his dreams was finally here, before him.
“We could use it, but you need to know, it will change you forever. You will never be the same,” said Arios calmly. “But it’s the only way to save the world from the doom. That is what you were searching for, isn’t it? The ultimate power to save the world?”
“How can we use it? I’m ready for anything. We are all practically dead anyway, aren’t we?” Orin smiled nervously.
Arios extended his index finger.
“I knew I wouldn’t have to persuade you for too long. Just put the ring on your finger.”
Orin extended his finger, confused, and pushed it through the sorcerer’s transparent hand. He felt the ring on his finger, and pushed stronger. Suddenly, his mind darkened for a split second. When he opened his eyes, Arios was not any more on the same place. Arios melted with him. Orin became Arios, Arios became Orin, and both of them became something greater than they were as separate beings.
Thus the Ring of the Kings finally descended into the world of men, for the first time since the history began. It was the gift from those who live in a land where power does not mean anything, because everyone has it, to those whose lives were amounted to a little more than running to win that ultimate prize, those who in their weakness abuse their brothers and sisters to prove their strength.
His bearer knew now the whole story - about two men, about Dragon Rock, the power, and the Lord of Doom.
It was a dangerous gift, and it was a long and hopeless search for a man who could receive it. But the Lord of Doom, once a petty sorcerer which came through deceit in possession of some small pieces of power from the Lords of the Upper Realms, started to change the world in his own manner, growing more and more powerful. The time was getting short. And then the messengers from the Upper Realms found the little shepherd on the slopes of the Blue Mountains. It was a man who did not know his magic was unsurpassed in the world of men, and who, in fear of doing evil, left all the courts and kingdoms that could have knelt under his feet, and went to the mountains to watch after a herd of goats. In truth, he was the only man to whom the Ring of the Kings could be trusted, and now the Ring was the only weapon against the Lord of Doom, whose power rose unstoppably, and was spreading across the lands. But, how to move a man who destroyed his own wishes long ago? The influence of the Lords of the Upper Realms on this earth was limited and indirect. A stimulus was needed, someone who could stir the sorcerer into action, someone whose desire for the power was stronger than anything else. Such people were not so hard to find, and the prince of the Plain Countries was one of the first choices. Therefore, he was enticed to go to a quest for the Ring of the Kings, and to search for the Dragon Rock, which led him unmistakably in the right direction. Of course, nothing of what happened was pre-destined to happen that way. No one, not even the Lords of the Upper Realms, the high-born elves, could know what the future brings. They could only drop a pebble, and watch if it would develop into an avalanche. Fortunately, Arios’ solitude and curiosity was strong enough to make him go after the prince.
However, soon it was clear enough that the human spirit, no matter how strong it was, wasn’t able to find the Upper Worlds alone. Therefore, a flute was given to Arios, a flute whose powerful magic was able to close the gap between the Upper and the Lower Realms. Carried by its music, the sorcerer’s spirit could have reached the Dragon Rock without the death of the body, but destiny, or something similar, decided that it was to be done accidentally, in the hour of his death. So, the only way to return to this earth was to melt with someone still living. Maybe it was better this way, because who knows if Arios could find in himself enough will power to do what was needed, or would he throw away the Ring and left the world to its doom? Orin’s yearning could give the moment of force to Arios’ spirit, enticing him to act.
The new being was the most powerful creature on the earth, the wielder of the ultimate power, won at the Dragon Rock, in the Upper Realms ruled by the high-born elves and the ancient dragons. Two lives merged into one. The part of the mind which was Orin was now able to remember everything Arios lived through. It was all cle
ar, and he knew what happened to the sorcerer.
He remembered the pain, when the enemy spears pierced him; he remembered the agony of dying, and the unearthly melody of the elven flute which led his spirit to the Upper Realms. In his spiritual eye, he saw the Dragon Rock, at whose base he stood, rising up in the blue heights, and the huge bodies of the beasts which nested in its caves. The dragons, as he always knew, were the guardians of the ultimate power.
“Am I there?” he asked the elven girl, who greeted him with a smile.
“Have we met before? In my dream? Or was it all real?”
She nodded without words, and pointed at the peak with her hand.
“There?” asked he. “There is the Ring of the Kings? But how could I climb there? The cliff is almost vertical.”
One part of his mind knew that the physical distance does not mean anything in the place he was now, but at the same time he was aware that the distance he must cross to get to the Ring of the Kings was different, not measurable in steps.
“Not everyone is able to save the world,” the answer came. “We chose you, because you are the only man capable to receive our gift.”
“But, I don’t want power,” he said. “The power destroys everyone, in the end.”
“Exactly. Men are too weak. You are the only man it would not destroy.” said the girl.
“Why?” he asked.
“The answer to that question you will find in yourself,” replied the elven girl.
“But, I am dead. This isn’t real life any more. I’m not a man any more. Maybe this is only...” he tried again.
“...a dream?” the girl finished his question. “Yes, all of this is only a dream. The real world is a common dream of the people who inhabit it. It is a closed circle. People create the world, as the world creates the people. It is impossible to point a finger at the beginning. There is no beginning, as there is no end. The death is only passing into another, much bigger dream. The Dragon Rock is a crossroads. There is a way for you to return into the world of men, if you climb up to the Ring. It depends on you.”
Then he realized how to reach his goal. All that was needed was for the Ring to really become his purpose. Everything else would come from that.
Still, the way up was not easy. He remembered the painful ascent, when he overcame the cliff inch by inch, only by sheer will power, while his spirit was becoming all the more powerful. His passivity was his greatest enemy; it was trying to make him give up everything, make him surrender and pass this effort to someone else, someone who cared more for the world and its destiny. However, he knew he was alone, and no one could take his burden and responsibility, and that knowledge dragged him up, higher and higher, to the lairs of the giant flyers. He remembered the moment at the top of the mountain, when an enormous green dragon gave him the Ring on the point of the long, sharp claw, and the moment he put it on his finger, feeling the waves of the unlimited power. The huge reptile eyes were staring at him. The dragon’s shiny, muscular body coiled, sparkling on the translucent light of the Upper Realms. He felt he knew the soul of the world, and it was bound to act at his will.
He remembered his swift descent in the world of men and the encounter with himself - with Orin.
Before him, there was still a task to be done, a task which now seemed like formality. The evil of the Lord of Doom was still at large, but now he had no power over him. His fear disappeared; he could laugh in the face of the enemy. So, he waved his left hand and the sun rose in the west, killing the night. He started to walk slowly down the slope, while hundreds of men were watching the miracle in awe, and the Lord of Doom, the light of that evening dawn shining on him, was in panic, screaming commands, running through his camp. However, no one listened to him any more. The defenders, who were watching the spectacular scene, later could not come to agreement about their stories. What everyone remembered, though, was the figure which was descending to the ocean of enemies unarmed, and the panic which rose in their army. A huge shape on the black horse stood in front of the man, but no one heard their conversation. Some could swear that the Lord of Doom diminished before their eyes, others claimed he disappeared like a wisp of mist in the sun; still others were sure he simply dropped dead on the ground. What really happened was not important, anyway. The Lord’s power was returned where it belonged. Without it, the miserable sorcerer was nothing. And perhaps he really did simply disappear.
Whatever happened, his army suddenly started to disperse. Those abducted from the realm of death were returned where they belonged, the demons paled away in the light of the magic sun, and the living men lost their will to make war, to kill, even to continue living. The horde of the Lord of Doom melted like the ball of snow before the dark shine of the Ring of the Kings. Everything was possible for the bearer of the ultimate power. The world was spreading at his feet, its soul open, at his mercy. But, Arios-Orin did not want the glory.
The remains of the Ledonia’s people returned to their homes. And no one remembered seeing the powerful sorcerer, who accomplished the impossible, ever again. It was hard to tell if this forgetfulness was the Ring’s doing, or simply the result of the fantastic human ability to overlook and forget all, even the most obvious things, which don’t fit to their vision of the world.
Epilogue
Many days after the fall of the demon army, two Hunters of the mountain lions, Nai and Saim, were sitting in their camp with their friend Orin ar den Raamternan. Their dinner, a wild mountain hare, was roasting over a campfire. Their people have already gone to their land. The twins remained here, to say goodbye to the prince. And, though he didn’t talk much, they knew he was not the same as before. The spirit of Arios sparkled from his eyes. Nai and Saim could not overlook that.
“It seems you reached the end of your road,” stated Saim.
“Yes.” The man on the other side of the fire was silent. His eyes weren’t looking only this reality any more, but much, much beyond it.
“But, the end could be more dangerous than the beginning, couldn’t it?” asked Nai, her eyes revealing uncertainty.
“Maybe,” replied Arios-Orin. “We can’t know that, can we?”
“And what will you do now?” there was a trace of anxiety in the Saim’s question.
“I don’t know,” said the man. “What I’ve become, doesn’t give me the power to look in the future. Maybe I’ll go through the world. There are many things that should be done. I could destroy all the evil in the world. And maybe become even worse than the Lord of Doom. Because, no one can stop me any more and not everyone would agree with my concept of evil. Who knows what would happen?”
The expression of fear appeared on the faces of the twins. And when a man is afraid of someone, he cannot be his friend. The company of the most powerful man on the earth became unpleasant in that instant. There was question in the eyes of the twins - why anyone was allowed to hold such power? Would it not destroy everyone, without exception? Would not even this man, whom the Upper Realms granted the power, yield to its burden?
But then, a broad smile brightened the face of the being sitting across them, melting the ice in the hearts of the twins, destroying the shadow of the doubt. Maybe it was only a part of his magic, but their fear suddenly seemed needless, foolish to the twins. It was a moment of their weakness, not his, they realized.
Arios-Orin shook his head slowly, looking at the fire, and said more to himself: “Yes, I could do anything. Still, I think I’ll return home for a time being. It would be a shame if my goats have gone wild by now. I need to take care of them, and let the world take care of itself.”
The End
About Author
Aleksandar Budjanovac (1963 - 2009) was a Croatian writer, faculty professor, Flamenco guitar player and martial arts master. He led a rich, fulfilled life which he used as the source of inspiration for his books. Besides "The Dragon Rock", he also wrote several other fantasy novels, as well as humoristic novels.
Nebojsa Budjanovac (1973) is a Croa
tian writer, English translator, psychotherapist, crisis intervention team leader and sword fighting champion of the world in WKF federation. As Aleksandar's brother, he translated his books to English, and also wrote several books of his own. During his life, he encountered many crisis and extremely dangerous situation, which he used to learn about human psyche and behavior. His interests cover many fields, including fantasy, philosophy, psychology, adventure, military history, martial arts and many others.
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