Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) (26 page)

At this point, they were on the southern limits of the Dragonwing mountains, and a man passing by on a trip from a nearby city found her and took both of them to his home to tend them, for he had a child of his own, his wife having died not long before while giving birth. They fell in love over time, though it was more of a respectful love, not the love she had known with my son.”

There was another pause as Astan-Valar regarded him intently, and Valdieron felt there was something in the tale he should have known, but it was when Astan-Valar spoke next, the weight of his tale struck home like a physical blow.

“
That man was Garrik Ketherson of Shadowvale!”

As much as Valdieron whispered denial, his mind was deliberating over the words, and it became increasingly likely that Astan-Valar's words were indeed truth. His mother was unknown to him, and from his memories of Marcus, his brother, the two had been somewhat different both in appearance and personality. Even on a few occasions, he felt as if some people of Shadowvale regarded him as being odd, as they would a stranger, though in his youth, the actions of adults had more than bemused him.

The revelation was painful for him. That Garrik was not his father made his whole life up until that point a lie. What memories he held about being part of a family were unceremoniously torn apart as his mind ran through them and burned them for being false. He asked himself why he had not been told before this, for surely he could not have been kept from this knowledge for all his life. Perhaps Garrik had not known the full power of the woman he had come to love in terms of who she was. However, it was not likely Garrik would have known he would not be around long enough to tell Valdieron when the time was right.

Astan-Valar regarded him silently, his stony face set with a rueful frown, as if he had knew the pain he would cause with his words, but knowing they had to be told.

“
Who… who was my mother, then?” That she was Dak'marian he guessed, from his appearance and the dying words of the Blademaster, Nortas. That he was travelling to Dak'mar was not solely for the reason of searching for the pieces of the disc.

Astan-Valar's silence was troubling, but he spoke at length, his voice solemn. “She was a woman of great strength and beauty. She was the last of a line who were of the old blood. Her family was dying as a result of a feud with another newer family, and when the time came that they were on the verge of annihilation, she was secreted away by her father, for he had portended great things for her. Thus, with her family dying, she lived in secrecy in the wastelands, where none would find her save by fate."

A sudden affection for his unknown mother welled up in Valdieron. He admired her strength, and wondered what she must have gone through to survive such terrible times. He was glad in a way that she had finally met Garrik Ketherson, for Garrik had not left Valdieron wanting as a father, and that the two shared some sort of bond before his mother died was special in a way.

“
What was my father like?”

The thin smile from the old man was from the recollection of a fond memory. “Xarkon was different from other Kay'taari, maybe as a result of his unusual heritage. He was big and strong with the power of the Kay'taari, yet his mind and spirit were definitely Elvin, for he was both aloof and determined. His thirst for knowledge was great, even at an early age. There is much of him in you.”

To have a father he did not know, and another man, who had been like a father but was not, sent conflicting emotions through Valdieron. He realized he would always see Garrik Ketherson as his father, though he knew the bond they had shared had not been one of blood, but one of friendship and love.

“
Then that makes you...”

Realizing Astan-Valar was his grandfather sent his mind reeling after witnessing the visions of the First Era, which had culminated in the War of Ascension. “But are you...?” He had begun to ask if Astan-Valar was really alive, or just a creation of Kel’Valor.

“
I am dead, Valdieron. What you see before you is a manifestation of my spirit using powers beyond comprehension. Long ago, I created an enchantment that would allow for the three meetings we have had, at certain times in your growth. The power that allowed for this is dried up, and you will see me no more after this, until such time as your spirit also travels to the afterlife, but fate willing, that will be many centuries off.”

“
But this room! These items?” asked Valdieron despairingly, tears coming unbidden to his eyes. He had never known a grandfather either, and knowing he was dead, even though he was speaking with him, was cause for sadness. “They look so real. I had thought it was more than some manifestation of Kel'Valor.”

“
They are!” assured Astan-Valar with a wave of his hand, taking in the room and its contents. “I created this many years ago, and surprisingly, it has defied the taint of the Unlife. It rests on the edge of Kel'Valor, both apart and part of the whole, so that I could access it at will. You will have access also, when the knowledge comes to you, at which time everything I have will be yours by birthright, and will be useful in your time to come.”

He looked up then, as if peering through the roof, and a frown crossed his face. “Our time grows shorter, Valdieron. You will soon return to Kil’Tar, but remember all I have told you. There is a swirling of powers in the universe, and you stand before it as controller. Falter, and these powers will sweep you away as surely as a hurricane would a leaf. You have in you to do this, and I am sure you will succeed. Farewell, and remember that I love you.”

Valdieron choked on his own goodbyes as tears ran freely down his face. Everything around him began to fade, growing devoid of color as darkness crept in, and the image of Astan-Valar faded. He moved to embrace him, but remembered he was only illusory, yet the action was performed in his mind rather than physically. “Goodbye, grandfather. Goodbye.”

Cazarandaya peered down at Valdieron as he awoke from the grasp of Kel'Valor. If any time had passed while he was in Kel'Valor, he did not know, but tears still streamed down his face.

“
I can only guess you have discovered that which you sought,” whispered the Dragon sympathetically, turning his huge bulk and moving deeper into the darkness of the cavern. “Rest for now, for I am sure you will want to make ready to leave in the morning.”

Valdieron nodded silently, still caught up in the whirling of emotion and thought, but surprised to find he was resting on a large woolen rug, looking like the hide of some large creature, though it was pale brown and striped with black. He settled down, staring up at the ceiling for a time before his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep, averting from the path to Kel'Valor and letting normal dreams take him, all of which he did not remember when he woke the next morning.

The
dawn outside was clear and sharp, despite the orange ball of the sun barely having cleared the distant horizon. Here inside the Spider Caverns, the morning air appeared colder and more humid than it had when in camp with the Darishi, as if the hollow collected moisture from the air and ground.

“
Such an amazing thing, yet we take it for granted!” He was referring to the sun and its slow journey, and the vital role it played to everything on the surface of Kil’Tar.

“
Like so many things, Kay'taari.” The bulk of the Dragon had come up softly behind him, his subconscious aware of it, but still he gave a start at the voice, knowing it belonged to the Dragon, but expecting when he turned to find a man instead, such was its tone and inflection.

“
As soon as we no longer value something, it is lost.” There was sorrow in the Dragon's voice, as if recalling a thousand such incidents. “Such a thing has happened with the great forests. Now there are but three, where more than a dozen once spread across Kil'Tar, like oceans of green. But 'man',” he said this as a collective, though the inflection on humans was evident, “has used the great trees to build their kingdoms and their boats and their wagons, and now there are few of the older trees remaining. New ones are planted, but few have the majesty of the ancient oaks or elms.”

“
Is mankind not also in danger?” asked Valdieron in a whisper. “We take it for granted that we are alive, but now there comes a danger that could see not only the destruction of mankind, but that of all races and even the planet.”

The Dragon snorted agreement. “It is as I have said: Mankind fill their short lives with greatness and success, yet do not see that life is not measured by importance or accomplishment, but by how it was lived.” The Dragon's chuckle came as another surprise to Valdieron. “I have seen Kings who have wept at the time of their deaths, ruing that they have made nothing of their lives, and I have seen peasants and slaves with nothing who have died smiling, ruing only that they could not live a moment longer.”

Valdieron could only ponder the Dragon's words and agree. Old Sebastian Bachera from Shadowvale had been a miserly old farmer who saved every coin of his making, and although he had several children and grandchildren, he spent no more than he had to on them, until finally they were forced to leave the farm on their own endeavors. Sebastian could do nothing to prevent this, and as such, his own farm diminished, and he could no longer keep himself in production. In the end, his own greed ate away at him as he would not spend anything to help himself, and even his funeral had been sparse, only a simple wooden coffin on a hill beside the river that ran through his farm.

“
Where will you go now, Valdieron?”

The question was not unexpected, though Valdieron had thought little about it during the early hours of the morning since waking. He had spoken briefly with the Dragon then, gaining some new knowledge and perspective, mainly about Dragonkind and his people, but he had also been shown how to attune the Dragon's Tear to finding the pieces of the Disk. There was indeed one or more to the south, and although he knew now who his mother was, he still wanted to find out what fate had befallen the other members of the family, if any had survived. He guessed Nortas was a little older than his mother would have been, meaning the warrior may have gone to the Astral City before he had grown to manhood, but it was possible he left Dak'mar after his mother was forced into the wastelands.

“
I will go south, Cazarandaya. There is something there for me, and I do not think it is just the piece of the Disk. It is like I am being drawn there.”

The Dragon was silent for a time, but his voice sounded almost prophetic as he spoke. “Perhaps there is, Valdieron. Your life will seem enigmatic at times, but remember always who you are.”

Valdieron nodded thanks, his back still turned away from the Dragon. He raised one hand to his lips and whistled, a long, shrill note that grew in pitch until it was no longer heard. He heard it echo through the Caverns, almost hauntingly, and he hoped it was able to escape to the plains beyond. He had given the call as soon as he awoke, and hoped Shakk had heard it and was coming. The second call would hopefully help the horse locate him, despite the animal's innate ability to find him wherever he may have whistled from. He knew it was a journey that the horse couldn’t make in hours, but had a feeling Shakk was not as far away as he might have been.

“
My thanks, Cazarandaya. I now know what debt we Kay'taari owe you and your kind, and although we can never repay it, I will seek to do so for as long as I live. Also, your knowledge has been given freely. My thanks are unworthy, but accept them for what they are, a token of my respect and friendship.”

“
Your words speak greatly of you, Valdieron, yet you must know we two races have not seen the last of each other. There lies a road that both of us must follow, and together, some of the travails may appear less treacherous. Remember this in your time of need, for in the future, the aid of Dragonkind will be at your call if you need it. Farewell.”

“
Farewell, Cazarandaya. Your presence will not be known here, but I cannot say what the Darishi may do or think if they find I am not dead. Take care.”

“
The Horsemen are the ones who should have a care, Valdieron, but you are correct. My time on Kil'Tar grows short, and I think I would like to see its beauty once more before I depart. It will be pleasant to ride the winds one last time and visit some others of my get.”

The distant clatter of hooves alerted Valdieron and he gave a smile, though it faded with the presence of the Dragon withdrawing into the cave. Cazarandaya had revealed his life was almost at an end, cause for sadness in itself that such an ancient and majestic creature would be lost to the world.

He strode out of the dim cave entrance into the building warmth of the morning, without looking back. “Fly free, Cazarandaya, last of the Great Wyrms. Let the skies once again feel the pride of carrying such as you, and let all others see that if royalty is measured in heart and nobility, you would be crowned King a thousand times over.”

By the time he found his way out of the Caverns, using the guidance of Cazarandaya, he felt as if he were a butterfly, rising from a cocoon, ready for a new life. There came a pounding of hooves and a delighted whinny, and he turned to see Shakk coming in swiftly, his hooves hardly seeming to strike the hard ground, but dust and flecks were thrown up in the haste.

The horse skidded to a halt, looking as if it would charge right over Valdieron, but it came up within arms reach and leant forward to nuzzle Valdieron joyfully, and maybe a little accusatory.