King Of The North (Book 3) (31 page)

…Garret.

“Hello cousin,” Eogan greeted him, slowly drawing a blade very similar in appearance to the Serpent’s Tongue.

“Eogan,” Eamon said. “Had I known you existed, I would have killed you long ago.”

Eogan smiled. “How nice of you to show your love,” he mocked. “When I kill you, say hello to my father for me. I wasn’t very pleasant when I met him. Neither was my dagger when it pierced his heart.”

Eamon glared at him as the two slowly circled each other. The Handmaiden’s, having lost interest in the confrontation, turned their attention to the woman who had accompanied the Prince.

“I’ll take care of them,” Brianna said.

Eamon nodded. “I have faith that you will,” he said.

Brianna charged the Ka’ha’di, who disappeared into the next room to find a better place to fight. Eamon saw Brianna follow them, knowing that she could handle all six without any problem. He then turned his attention back to his cousin.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t have met under other circumstances,” Eamon said.

“Not really,” Eogan replied. “I would have hated you either way.”

Eogan charged, sliding across the smooth floor to strike with lightning speed. He slashed three times before Eamon had time to counter even once. Fortunately, Eamon subconsciously blocked each attack, but Eogan dodged his as well.

Eogan spun around, attacking with a backhand slash. Eamon blocked, using his other hand to throw a punch at Eogan’s face. His fist connected with the boy’s mask, knocking it away. Eogan growled, backing away to catch his balance.

“That’s a nasty wound,” Eamon said, commenting on the large scar that dominated the right half of Eogan’s face.

“It’s nothing compared to the wound that Garret dealt to your mother,” Eogan taunted again.

Eamon ignored him, concentrating on gathering
The Dragon’s power. Before Eogan’s eyes, Eamon’s armor shifted, its blades changing direction to increase its flexibility.

“Impressive,” Eogan commented.

Eamon struck, shifting forward with a blinding attack. His blade connected with Eogan’s, knocking the younger man back. Eogan recovered quickly, countering immediately with a double slash. Their blades clanged together in rapid succession, echoing off the walls of the palace as the two fought.

Brianna was surrounded by the Ka’ha’di. They swung their blades around their heads, taking turns letting go of their chains to throw the sickles at her. When Brianna dodged them, they were immediately pulled back to resume their spinning. The air was filled with the whirling sound of the spinning blades, and to the Knight, it was mesmerizing.

As one blade was shot out, Brianna dodged and caught it with her left blade, with her other blade, she caught hold of the chain and pulled the handmaiden toward her, kicking her in the face. Another blade shot at her as she let go, and she ducked to dodge it as it zipped right by her head. She countered by hurling her blade at her attacker.

The handmaiden was struck square in the chest, and Brianna rolled toward her, drawing her blade free as her enemy fell to the floor. She spun back to the center of the room, now surrounded by five.

Eamon charged his cousin, spinning his blade in alternating arcs. Eogan backed away, avoiding each strike, and throwing in counterattacks that Eamon had to shift position to block. Eogan came at him with side to side leaps, jabbing his blade ahead of him each time. With the fourth jab, Eamon called upon The Dragon’s power and spun around Eogan to strike at his back.

His blade connected with Eogan’s shoulder, drawing a groan from the younger Prince. Eogan turned to him in hatred, clasping his wound and gritting his teeth.

“You will die,” he hissed. “And I will show your head to your people before I throw it at them.”

Eamon charged again, striking rapidly several times. Eogan jumped backward to avoid the attacks, using the wall as leverage to leap away and spin over Eamon’s head. He landed behind Eamon, making what he thought was the killing blow.

Eamon thrust his sword over his shoulder, blocking the attack. He then ducked, spinning around to deliver an underhanded upward strike. Eogan shifted to the side, as Eamon had done before.

“You see, cousin,” Eogan said. “I wield
The Dragon’s power as well. His blood courses through my veins as it does yours.”

“But it’s polluted with
The Lifegiver’s stench,” Eamon replied, concentrating on drawing more strength from The Dragon.

Eogan straightened, backing away to stand on the opposite side of the chamber’s center. He held his arms out, throwing his head back to capture
The Lifegiver’s power. Dark energy flowed down from the ceiling, surrounding Eogan and healing his wound. Eogan smiled wide, his expression turning into a scowl as he lowered head to glare back at Eamon.

“It is strengthened by it,” Eogan corrected. “As you can see quite well.”

Eamon felt The Dragon’s power coursing through him more strongly now. He could feel his blood boil with renewed strength. He poised himself for another blinding attack, anticipating Eogan’s similar plan.

In a blast of contrasting energies, the two Princes shifted forward, each slashing with a blinding attack. Eamon felt his blade impact as the two passed in a blur, but he was not sure whether he had connected with Eogan’s blade or his body. Eamon stopped near the wall, slowly turning to face Eogan.

The Prince stood frozen at the opposite side of the room, his blade still gripped tightly in his hand. Slowly, as Eamon approached him from behind, his blade hand loosened and his sword fell to the floor. Eogan began to sway back and forth, and Eamon could see a growing pool of blood at Eogan’s feet.

Eogan fell to his knees as Eamon came up from behind him. He looked up, seeing his conqueror glaring down expressionlessly.

“Forgive me, cousin,” Eamon said. “But you do not deserve the throne. This is The Dragon’s land, and I am its King.”

Eogan coughed, choking on the blood that was beginning to rise into his throat. Eamon stepped back and poised himself for a final strike. As Eogan leaned forward to spill the blood from his mouth, Eamon’s blade came down with the power of
The Dragon behind it.

Eogan, Heir to the throne of the Southern Kingdom, was no more.

Daryth descended the stairs he had found, following the sounds of battle that he heard in the room below. When he saw his sister Knight engaged in a furious battle with the Ka’ha’di, he leaped over the railing to join her.

Brianna furiously pulled her blades out of an enemy’s back as Daryth landed. She winked at him as he joined the battle, and spun around to dodge another spinning blade. She hurled a blade at her attacker, rushing forward to immediately pull it out as it plunged into the handmaiden’s forehead.

Daryth rolled forward to avoid another blade, rising up before its wielder to plunge his blade into her heart. As he withdrew, Brianna spun past him to sever the chain of a blade that spun at him. Daryth finished off the attacker with his last spare dagger, hurling it into her gut. As he rushed to pull the dagger out, he turned to see Brianna using the same cross attack that Jhayla used to behead her enemy.

Breathlessly, Brianna turned, casually sheathing her blades. “That was fun,” she said.

Daryth chuckled, following her into the main chamber.

Eamon entered the throne room, seeing Maebh sitting upon her throne. As he looked around, he could see that the Jindala had replaced most of the décor with their own vile ornaments. There were pyramid shaped designs, intersected with odd astrological symbols that seemed to belong to a different world. He felt sickened as he gazed at them, and had to tear his eyes away to avoid their influence.

He mounted the steps of Maebh’s throne, glaring at her as he ascended them. She stared back, her expression one of fear and regret. She swallowed hard as she watched him reach the top step. As he stood facing her, she smiled at him.

“It is good to see you again, Eamon,” she said, her voice trembling and uneven.

Eamon looked at her with rage.
She
had allowed the Jindala to invade the island.
She
had fallen under the spell of Tyrus the Blackhearted.
She
was responsible for the deaths of thousands of her own people. Yet, somehow, he began to feel pity.

“You have no idea what you have done, do you?” he said. “You have been blinded to the plight of your own people. You turned that blind eye away, and ignored their pleas. You did this. You did this all.”

Maebh began to sob. The tears ran from her eyes in genuine regret, Eamon knew. She was, after all, his mother’s twin. Surely their hearts were similar. Could she merely have been blinded by the promise of power? Could she have truly not understood the repercussions of her actions?

Did she deserve mercy?

“Do not judge her too harshly, my friend,” came a familiar voice.

Eamon looked up to see Farouk standing behind the throne. Maebh remained transfixed on Eamon, her gaze tearful yet unblinking.

“The Lifegiver has soiled the minds of millions,” Farouk continued. “Myself, Azim, and Khalid included.”

Eamon was silent as he considered Farouk’s words. He looked at his aunt again, feeling the pity growing stronger.

“She…”

“She will give up the throne,” Farouk said. “And I will take her away. The Great Mother has need of her.”

“For what?” Eamon asked.

Farouk shrugged. “I do not know, Eamon,” he replied. “It was her request, and I assume she has good reason.”

Eamon turned away, facing the throne room’s entrance.  He could see Daryth and Brianna approaching, followed by the rest of the Knights. “Take her,” he said.

He heard Farouk step forward. Maebh mumbled something quietly as the Druid put his hands on her shoulders. With a flash of light that reflected off of the walls of the throne room, the two of them were gone. Eamon turned and looked at the throne, prepared to take his place upon it.

He stepped forward, pulling out the Serpent’s Tongue and used it to cut away the foul decorations that adorned the throne. He hacked away at the gemstones and gold carvings that represented The Lifegiver, growling and cursing with rage as the pieces were thrown away. When the throne was clear, he brushed the clutter from the seat and turned.

Before the eyes of the Knights of
The Dragon, King Eamon took his throne.

Chapter Twenty Three

When the battle had died down, the army of Eirenoch had descended the pass to gather at the city gates. The gates were opened to allow them entry, and the soldiers were met with the cheering citizens of Faerbane. Hundreds were gathered at the castle’s entrance, eager to pay tribute to the new King.

Eamon stood at the top of the stairs facing his people. At his side were the Knights of
The Dragon, and down either side of the stairway, the Priests of Drakkar stood with the High Priests at the highest step. Farouk having returned to Eirenoch, stood before the King, bearing the crowns of both the Northern and Southern Kingdoms.

He turned to face the crowd, holding both crowns in the air as he addressed them. “The Kingdom of Eirenoch is whole once again,” he shouted, drawing cheers from the crowd. “These crowns that were previously worn by its rival Queens shall now rest upon the head of its King. King Eamon, the Onyx Dragon.”

The crowd cheered once more, and the Rangers held their swords in the air. Farouk moved the crowns close together, concentrating on altering their matter. As he focused, he pushed them together, blending their forms until the two of them became one. He then held the new crown above his head, showing the people its form.

It was now in the shape of a dragon’s head, complete with horns and scales. It was black and platinum in color, and its beauty drew gasps from all who beheld it. Farouk lowered it, admiring its beauty and form.

He turned, showing the crown to Eamon. The King nodded approvingly and bowed as Farouk stepped behind him. The Druid then placed the crown upon his head, resting his hands on Eamon’s shoulders.

“You have fulfilled your destiny, my friend,” Farouk whispered. “And now it's time to give the people of Eirenoch the King they deserve.”

He then stood returned to his place near the Knights as Eamon stood. He glanced at his brother, and the two smiled at each other. Farouk had never been more proud of his younger brother, and knew that his devotion would be a great asset to Eamon in his future rule.

As Eamon stood straight and looked down on his people, everyone in the city fell to their knees. Eamon felt the power of their love and respect, and bowed his own head to honor them in return. Then, from the city gates, the voice of Ulrich boomed over all.

“All hail The Dragon King!” he shouted.

The city erupted into cheers and celebration. The Knights and Priests gathered together, inviting Ulrich and Ceor to join them. Adder and Jhayla were welcome as well, as all who led the people of Eirenoch against the enemy would be honored this night.

It would be a feast to remember. The entire Kingdom would be welcome to join them, and the celebration would last for days. Everyone who wished to would be invited to greet the new King and receive his blessing.

The Knights of
The Dragon would take their place at the palace. The Priests of Drakkar would return to their temples and reopen them for worship. The Rangers would return to their new compound and resume their duties as protectors of the forest.

All would be well until the world was ready to join together in the battle against
The Lifegiver himself. Before that could occur, each nation of the world must purge its lands of all Jindala influence. Eirenoch and Jotunheim, Farouk realized, were the first Kingdoms to achieve that. They would forever be remembered as such, and would serve as inspiration for the rest of the world.

The Onyx Dragon, along with the King of the North, would lead the world in rebellion. Together with the Firstborn, whom Kronos now awaited, they and the rest of the kings of the world would make one last stand. One last effort to bring freedom back to the Earth, and allow the Great Mother to rest at last.

It would be well worth the wait.

Kronos rested on the shore, staring out over the sea with wistful eyes. Somewhere, miles and miles beneath the waves, was his brother, Leviathan. The ancient creature, as fearsome and dangerous as The Dragon ever was, lay trapped in his own prison, and awaited the only being that had the power to free him.

Kronos would enter his watery realm as Farouk had entered his own. There, he would free Leviathan and allow him to return to the Earth. Together, they would awaken the rest of the Firstborn and converge at
The Lifegiver’s Great Pyramid. They would do battle with the ancient being once again. But, this time, it would spell the end of the world as they had known it.

Everything would change as the Great Mother rested to regain her strength. The continents would change, the seas would change, and many life forms that walked the Earth would perish. When the Great Mother reawakened, the Earth would be unrecognizable. That did not bode well for the sentient races. For if the Great Mother was not pleased with their progress, she would destroy them once and for all.

It would be up to the next generation of gods to set them straight.

You may rest now, Garret,
the Great Mother said.

“Thank you,” Garret replied.

He had appeared back in the tranquil paradise that she had made for him, and was glad to have arrived. He had not rested in several days, and though his body was practically indestructible, his mind was still that of a normal man. He needed a few days to recover.

He stripped down to his trousers, plopping down in the comfortable chair in front of his fireplace. Outside, the cool air blew in, filling his house with the pleasant smell of his garden. He smiled as the aromas filled his senses and calmed him. It was not long before he was asleep.

The Great Mother looked down at him lovingly. He had served her well so far, and soon he would deserve a reward. She had three more people for him to remove, and once they were gone, he could rest in his paradise forever, enjoying the fruits of his labor.

She thought of creating a companion for him, one that would love him unconditionally. But she knew in her divine heart that he could never
love such a thing. His heart belonged to someone else, and she was determined to give him his wish. Even if he didn’t currently know who that was.

Eventually, she knew, his memories would return, and his heart would long for that one perfect love that he once knew. He deserved it, and nothing else would suffice. Now, thanks to her servant, Farouk, she had the raw materials to give him the reward that he would cherish forever.

It was only a matter of time.

Eamon had entered The Prophet’s chambers to investigate her mysterious disappearance. His grandmother had left no clues as to her location, and he was concerned that she was still here in the castle, awaiting the right time to strike.

As he searched the chamber, he found nothing. There were no signs of her presence, and even her bed had not been disturbed. The only thing that really caught his attention was the large mirror that dominated one wall. It was made of a strange, grayish metal, and carved with the same odd symbols that had decorated the throne room.

He approached it, staring at his own image as he did. There was something strange about the way he looked, but he couldn’t tell what it was. He seemed faded, older, drained of power. It was almost as if he was seeing himself as he would be in the future. A future where The Lifegiver still dominated the world.

He came close to the mirror, gazing at himself curiously. It was then that he noticed he was not really looking at his reflection, but at an avatar created by
The Lifegiver. The reflection smiled at him maniacally. He felt his heart quicken, and his chest tighten in anger.

The image stared back, looking the King over as if sizing him up. Eamon welcome it. He welcomed the chan
ce to make himself known, and to show The Lifegiver that he would not rest until the darkness was destroyed.

Calling upon the power of
The Dragon, he armored himself, allowing his body to take on the shape of The Dragon. He was still humanoid in shape, but now resembled the draconian forms of Erenoth’s Priests. The Lifegiver’s image seemed repulsed, afraid. Eamon stepped closer, his rage building until he let loose a roar that caused The Lifegiver to shrink away.

The mirror shattered, bursting into millions of tiny shards that twinkled in the torch light. Eamon relaxed, allowing himself to shift back into his own form. His heart slowed to a normal pace as his anger subsided, and his breathing deepened as he relaxed.

Standing before the shattered mirror, he realized that this was how The Prophet had escaped. She had brought it with her as a means of allowing The Lifegiver to transfer his power to her. Now, he had used it to make himself known, and feared. He laughed as he stood alone in the chamber, realizing that he had put fear into his enemy’s heart, as it were.

Deep in the Great Pyramid, in the Chamber of Stars,
The Lifegiver fell back to his throne. For the first time in his billions of years of existence, he was afraid.

The Dragon had returned.