Onyx Dragon (Book 1) (24 page)

“We have yet to fully realize its power.” Eamon said. “It is different for everyone.”

Farouk took his brother’s hand. “I am proud to see you receive this honor,” he said. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“Goodbye, brother,” Azim said.

Farouk turned to Jodocus and began to say that he was ready, but the two of them disappeared before he had a chance.

“We will return to Morduin and rest,” Eamon said. Then, to the rebel warriors, “We are honored to have you with us. Join us in the city and enjoy our hospitality. Soon, the enemy will return and we must defend our lands.”

The rebels agreed, proud to hear the words
our lands.
A life of oppression and servitude was no longer their fate. They were free. They had entered this land as enemies, but now, they were home.

The Prophet stood facing the Lifegiver. The divine being sat upon his throne, his form obscured by the bright light that emanated from his body. Around him, wisps and bolts of the Earth’s energy coursed into his body, strengthening and feeding him. It was energy sapped from the Earth’s core, stolen as nourishment for the extra-dimensional creature.

As he looked down at the figure below him, he spoke in whispers.

“What news, Prophet?”

“Master,” the Prophet spoke, her voice trembling with fear. “Tyrus has been killed, and we have lost four defilers in battle.”

The Lifegiver’s light shroud began to change color, fading to bright red as his anger built.

“Who is responsible?” he demanded.

“The Prince of the Northern Kingdom, known as the Onyx Dragon. He and his Knights have destroyed all of the armies in the North.”

“How is this possible?”

“They wield the power of the Dragon,” The Prophet replied. “The Prince has traveled to Dol Drakkar and has been transformed. He carries a weapon of great power, and his Knights command the Dragon’s power as well.”

“And the Sultan?” the Lifegiver asked. “Who killed him?”

“The Onyx Dragon destroyed him with the help of Azim, the Jindala Captain.”

The Lifegiver roared in rage, shaking the interior of his giant pyramid with his wrath. “Traitor!” he hissed. “He will pay!”

“His brother and their men have turned as well,” the Prophet explained. “The Dragon’s presence has negated your influence on them. Their minds were cleared of your magic, and they chose to follow the Dragon. They now see that you are not the true God Imbra.”

The Lifegiver laughed, his booming voice echoing through the chamber. “Then it’s time I reveal to the people my true intentions. The masquerade has gone on long enough.”

“What do you wish me to do, master?”

“Summon the Enkhatar to the pyramid,” he replied. “Have them gather a thousand civilians in the temple. I will bend them to my will and transform them. They will be my elite forces against this Onyx Dragon. I will send Tyrus back to the island. His task is not complete.”

“As you wish, my master.”

“Soon,” the Lifegiver concluded. “It will be your time to prove your worth. Do not fail me.”

The Prophet bowed, fearful of the Lifegiver’s plans. She knew what the Lifegiver would do to the innocent people that would be gathered at the temple. A horrible fate awaited them all. A fate that was even worse than death.

She would not wish such a fate on even her worst enemy.

Khalid had made it across the border into the Southern Kingdom. He was relieved to be out of the North and looked forward to rejoining his allies and getting a good night’s rest. The thought of a plush bed and good wine drove him forward, desperate to reach the nearest occupied city.

Ahead, he could see the banners of a company of Jindala coming over the crest of a hill. Their ranks were impressive, tightly lined up, and marching in perfect unison. They were headed North, most likely to give support for the troops there, and numbered several thousand.

In their front lines, Khalid could see the Immortals, berserker warriors who felt no pain and could fight on with the most serious and crippling of injuries. They, themselves numbered in the hundreds.

The Jindala Sheikh suddenly felt the need to hide. If they spotted him, he would be expected to join. He did not want to march on the Northern Kingdom again. He simply wanted to rest and regain his strength, away from the toils of battle. He was too weary from travel, and his nose was broken. The bastard warrior in Taryn had smashed it to bits, and even after three days of travel, it still throbbed and ached.

Khalid spied a clump of trees nearby, and hid as the Jindala army approached. He hoped that the Sultan was not among them to sense his presence. Tyrus was a cruel man and would never allow him to rest or recuperate. Neither would any other man who outranked him.

As the Jindala army marched by, he crouched as close to the ground as he could, trying hard to stay out sight. The sounds of their boots stomping the ground was deafening. Never before had he seen such a large army of his peers, and their intent was obvious: to lay waste to Morduin as his own army had intended.

Khalid breathed a sigh of relief as they passed without noticing him. Their footfalls faded away as they marched further behind him, and eventually subsided. He would continue on, unabated, and head for the nearest city.

At last he could rest and enjoy the fruits of conquest.

Imbra stirred in torpor. He had heard the Dragon speak to him through his dreams and now began to feel his consciousness return. His brother had given him a small amount of his strength, but could still feel the weight of the Lifegiver’s magic upon him.

Imbra...awaken, my brother.

Imbra opened his eyes, seeing the magical strings of dark energy that bound him like a madman in the Earth. He struggled against them, trying to break their bond, but it was no use. He was still trapped, and powerless.

“Dagda, my brother,” he spoke out loud, calling to the Dragon. “Where are you?”

My power has faded. I lie trapped in the Earth like you, only able to communicate through dreams and visions.

“My children,” Imbra spoke.

Your children are slaves to this new power. Even now they worship him as if he were you. He has them fooled into believing that he is Imbra.

“I must free them,” Imbra said desperately. “They need me.”

There are a great number of them in my lands. I have freed some of them, and they now serve me. Once my lands are free of the Lifegiver’s influence, I will send my son to the mainland. Your children will be saved.

“Who is this Lifegiver?”

Darkness. Void. Nothing.

“Absu.”

Yes.

“We are doomed,” Imbra lamented.

No. We will defeat him. The Firstborn must be reawakened. But I need your help to do so.

“What do you want me to do?”

Call to your child Khalid. He is weak and desperate and may return to you. Tell him to go to Tel Drakkar in the South Kingdom. I will speak to him from my temple there.

“There are no Priests there anymore, my brother. There haven’t been for a thousand years.”

I will heal Khalid and make him the new Priest. He must be purged of his evil. He will serve us once again, but he will not heed my call. Only you can convince him to come. I will give you the strength to commune again.

“I will call to him. And I thank you.”

We will regain our power, and defeat Absu once more. He will return to his prison and we will walk the Earth again.

Imbra closed his eyes again, receiving the power that his brother sent through the core of the Earth. He felt it renew him and bring back some of his strength. He would still be bound within the Earth, but now he could call to his children.

Slowly, Imbra felt a glimmer of hope.

Farouk found Jodocus’ cottage comforting. It was warm and inviting and filled the former Jindala Captain with peace. The Druid had provided him with a room of his own, complete with plants to care for, and a small terrarium of bugs and tiny lizards.

Practice, Jodocus had said, for maintaining the balance. Too many bugs, then the lizards would be overcome. Too few, and the lizards would starve. Water the plants too much, and they will become too dependent. Water them too little, and they will wither and die.

Practice.

Farouk was impressed with the hidden tower as well, having never seen such intricate stonework in a study. He immediately fell in love with the view from his own personal window; a view that was easily enjoyed by simply looking up from his large desk.

Jodocus had provided him with ample books to study; histories, alchemical recipes, locations of ley lines, etc. Farouk had his work cut out for him, but he was willing to learn this way of life. He loved Eirenoch, and wanted to protect its beauty as best he could. He felt as if he was born to do so.

“Firstly,” Jodocus began, “you must learn to heal your own wounds. We’ll start with herbs, then graduate to using the power of the Dragon itself.”

Jodocus gave him a list of herbs that could be used for healing, and the usual methods for using them. Farouk found the list fascinating, having been around many of the same herbs his whole life, never knowing their healing powers. There was ginseng, which gave energy; horseradish, which cured infections; and so on.

“I had no idea how powerful these common plants were,” Farouk exclaimed, pointing to a beautiful blue flower. “I must have passed this flower a million times in my youth. If I had known it helped a person sleep, then I would have picked it many times.”

“Well, you had no way of knowing, my friend,” Jodocus said. “But you learn new things every day. You will be surprised how simple nature really is. She provides something for every ill, no matter what it may be, and a few things for your enjoyment, as well.”

“What do you mean?” Farouk asked.

“Well,” Jodocus said, “not everything can be serious and utilitarian. Nature provides for your amusement through certain flowers that can make you...happier. But, more of that later. For now, read your books and relax. There is no hurry. You will live a long time, as I have. Not quite as long, mind you, but as a druid, you will be able to sleep for long periods...long, long periods. And since you will wield the power of the Dragon, your life will be extended even longer.”

Farouk smiled, knowing that he would devote his long life to learning—a past time he missed in his military service. He looked forward to every aspect of his new life, and the benefits it would give him.

At last, Farouk had found a purpose.

Khalid dreamed.

He had lain down underneath an outcrop of rock in the woods, finding it the only source of shelter from the drizzle of cold rain. Exhausted, he had fallen asleep quickly, and was now in the depths of a phantasmal vision.

He stood before Imbra, his master. Not the Lifegiver, he realized, but the Imbra he had always imagined as a child. His God sat upon a throne of carved stone, overgrown with desert plants, and crawling with small, pleasant creatures like geckos, bees, and other tiny lizards.

Imbra himself was dressed in golden, flowing robes that accentuated his majesty. He was bearded, with skin the color of Khalid’s own, and wore a crown of gold and rubies. This was the god he had known his whole life, and he felt the love emanating from him.

“Khalid, my child,” Imbra spoke, leaning forward to look closer at his servant, “you have been lost to me as have so many of my children.”

“I have served you as you wished,” Khalid explained, disbelieving his own words.

“No, Khalid. You have served a master that is not I. I have been here in the Earth since you were a young man, trapped by forces beyond my power to overcome. You have done many things in my absence that I find appalling. Things I did not tell you to do.”

“Yes,” Khalid admitted. “I have murdered the innocent, spilled the blood of women and children. But these were your commands, or so I thought.”

“The Lifegiver is evil,” Imbra warned him. “He does not speak for me or any of the other firstborn. He is an outsider who has fooled my children into believing that he is Imbra.”

“I was fooled. Coerced. My weakness allowed it. I know this now.”

“Yes, but now you have the power to break free of this being’s will. You have your own will now. The Dragon has given you the strength to resist. But you must accept that he is the power in this land. Follow him, and your heart can be free.”

“But my life is devoted to you,” Khalid protested. “Or what I thought was you. I don’t know anymore.”

“By serving the Dragon, you serve me as well,” Imbra said, standing to embrace Khalid. The man felt the warmth of his father surround him, and he cried into the soft robes.

“I’m sorry, my father,” Khalid sobbed. “Forgive me.”

“I will always forgive you, Khalid. But your path must change. You travel South to reunite with your fellow soldiers, but you must turn from this path. They are no longer your brothers. Take The Path of the Dragon. I will guide you to his temple, if you trust me.”

Khalid looked up into Imbra’s soft eyes. “Of course I trust you,” he said. “I will do anything to have your forgiveness.”