The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (37 page)

“Quite interesting, are they not?” Ansharr’s long neck rose and stretched out close to the young woman that was overlooking her treasury. She had already decided to gift each of them for their bravery and commitment in bringing the scroll here through such adversity. The dragon had each picked out, and had already given the beautiful elv
en noblewoman hers
before dawn.

“Yes, yes they are. What would you do with so many things that you cannot use, may I ask?” Gwenne wondered how the dragon of such epic proportions could even manage to make use of many of the items she saw.

“One thing about dragons, young Lazlette, we have an inner craving for collecting. Art, poetry, magic, jewels, it matters little
as to what it really is
. But to have them, to own them, and to share
and take pride
in tha
t which is collected is of great importance to many of us
; as is giving them away from time to time, depending on the dragon in question of course. Do not worry, for the
invauable
scroll that
we must leave here and discuss
,
you all will be content with what I have for you
in return
.” Ansharr grinned at the smile that crossed Gwenne’s face at the mention of perhaps gaining one of these items for herself.

The young master student of the arcane turned to the dragon, struggling to take her eyes off of the vast stockpile of treasures she desired to know more about. “We are in your debt already, and you honor us w
ith more. How can we repay you
, Ansharr?”

“That scroll is far more valuable, to
me anyway, than much of what I have. Besides, as you said young Lazlette, what use do I have for such things? Come, let us gather the others and talk of what it is exactly
that
you are leaving be
hind here in Soujan Mountain.” t
he enormous and ancient red wyrm stepped toward the center of her haven as the sun shone in from the west and set the room aglow.

“Ansharr, may I return someday and learn from you some of those mysterious lost powers of the arcane that they say only dragons know of?” Gwenneth was not certain the myths of her arcane histories were true, but her curiosity could not be contained any longer.

“Of course young Lazlette, in fact I will send you with a tome of mine. It is written in my language, which you will have to learn to read and speak, but it has s
ome spells that no human would have ever seen. As long as y
ou promise to keep it secret.” t
he great old dragon smiled at the young ambitious wizard, knowing full well it would take years for her to understand the draconic tongue and even longer for her to learn the arcane passages. She saw little harm in it, as many high elven wizards knew of these enchantments as well.

“You have my word, great dra
gon. Thank you so very much.” h
er green eyes lit with anticipation at learning of things her mother and the academy could only dream of.

The dwarf had finished his prayers on the mountaintop plateau, Lady T’Sarrin was walking in beside him while admiring her longblade, and
the men
were busy cleaning their blades and armor. Saberrak stood near the cavern wall, by a magicked sconce, reading the scroll that lay out before him. His brow looked focused and confused at what he was seeing in the ancient words. Ansharr laid down next to the minotaur with her head held high. Gwenneth walked by James and Cristoff, shaking her head as she looked at the horned warrior trying to read the scroll of Annar.

“How long has the brute been trying to read that?” Gwenne asked James with her usual air of superiority.

“Trying? He has been up for hours, sometimes with tears
I think
, a few moments of anger, and several instances where he was speaking aloud in a language I have never heard. He
is
reading it, Lady Lazlette. How, I do not know, but I assure you he indeed understands it.” Sir James looked up from his trimmed beard and waves of short hair and stared right at her with complete seriousness.

“Tis true, Gwenneth. I have watched him as well, he is nearly finished with it.” Lord C
ristoff stood from his cleaning
and motioned his hand
toward Saberrak the gray. “His eyes turned a strange blue an hour ago, then he turned his back to us once he realized we noticed.”

“Doubtful he can understand it, in fact it is impossible.” Gwenne flicked her dark hair over away from her face, angered that the minotaur would fake such things in front of them. She knew full well that not even Kalzarius could read that scroll without the aid of
many
arcane spells that could translate the old tongue, and even then it had taken nearly a mont
h to read it through with limited
understanding.
Saberrak reading it in a few hours was nothing save ridiculous to the prodigal wizard.

“Good morning
my brave travelers, I will have food brought in a moment from my friends below in the mountain. I hope you all slept well.” Ansharr’s voice was low and pleasant as
a
lovely maiden on a spring day.

Saberrak turned to the dragon
and slowly rolled up the scroll. He was silent, deep in thought, and when he finished carefully returning the parchment around the stone spindle he
reluctantly
handed it to the outstretched hand of the red dragon. They bowed slightly to each other at the same time, both understanding why the scroll of Annar had to remain here out of the hands of men, forever.

“This scroll is to remain here, deep under the mountain where it will be protected with other holy relics and artifacts for all time. After all you have been through on its behalf, it is only polite
to pass on to you as to why this is.” Ansharr placed the scroll in front of her clawed hands on the stone and lowered her head level with the eyes of the six men and women present. “Saberrak, would you care to tell them?”

All five of his companions looked at him, the men with patience, the dwarf and the elf with awe that she thought he could explain it, and the wizard with disdain and pessimism for even the thought of it. The horned warrior looked back at them, his arms crossed and body leaning along the stone wall of the cavern. “The scroll was not just a history of the one known as Annar, son of Megos; it was a last testament of his will to the one he chose to give it to. I assume that
one
, would be me. I do not know how I can read
it, but this Carician language, well…it’s like I have known it my whole life, but I do not recall ever learning to read or speak it. In fact, I never saw writing I could understand because I was never taught, but this I can read perfectly.”

“Prove it then, minotaur.” t
he daughter of the lady of Lazlette challenged him, hoping a little pressure would show his arrogance and false words to all present.

“Let him speak Gwenneth.” Shinayne placed her hand on the wizard’s shoulder, sensing she was envious, angry, and impatient.

Saberrak looked at Gwenneth, knowing she did not believe him, and rightfully so from where he had come from. “The Gods you all worship, it says, are not truly Gods in the true sense of the word; they are descended from them. It says that Yjaros, the creator and God of the green moon Gimmor, created for himself a Goddess, a companion, to sit with him and watch the moons, the sun, and the world revolve around them. This Goddess, Seirena, bore him a child they named Megos who brought forth the magicks of the elements and basked in the reflected rays of the white moon, Carice.
Carice, in fact, was created by Yjaros for Megos, his first born son it says here.
Something happened, these tens of thousands of years ago, and Megos grew fond of his mother and she bore him several children, unknown to Yjaros that they were not his. Forty four she gave birth to in all it said, the throne angels of the green moon, the first race of
the Gods. Seven of them were secretly by
her own son
.
Alden, Annar, Vasentanesa, Siril, Vundren,
Haddius, and Solumet.” h
e paused, knowing that the words came that flowed from recent memory would possibly offend some of his allies here.

“So you mean to tell me, us, that those we worship are incestuous offspring of mythical figures of history and forgotten pagan worships? I find that hard to believe, and I am sure Shinayne and Azenairk share that feeling with me. Alden is the Lord of Heaven, he is God, no offense dwarf.” James spoke softly, but with a stern truth from his religious upbringing.

“None taken, human.
Vundren knows the truth as it is.
Go on Saberrak.” Zen was feeling the same as James on the matter, but just more reserved than the veteran knight.

“So it says, when the God and creator of all discovered this, he banished the Goddess to the earth forever and took one of her eyes, placed it in his forehead so that he could watch her always, and set out to destroy the bastard children. That was the first exodus, when Megos gathered his children and fled to the white moon.” Saberrak paused, understanding half of what he said, yet it flowed like he had always known it.

“The only exodus I read of was when the children of Alden, mankind, fled from the Altestan empire and were hunted down for worshipping him. When Alden had his wings tore from him and the feathered cross was-“

“James, I believe you. But it says there, by account of Annar himself, that it was the third exodus where that happened. The second was when the elves, dwarves, dragons, giants, and men who followed the Goddess
secretly fled south across the ocean and discovered this land. The continent welcomed them, and kept them hidden
here for thousands of years.” t
he minotaur relayed what he had read, receiving the occasional nod from the dragon as to continue.

“So the ancient pagan God of strength and barbarism wrote this scroll? His worship faded when the southern savages were driven off and defeated long ago. I do not see how his words, if this is true at all, could hold sway or merit
.” Cristoff voiced in, knowing some of the history referring to wars of the Agarian continent.

“Pagan? What does that mean?” the gray minotaur had not heard the word until this morning.

“It means the worship of old Gods, usually religions that had many in a group of sorts. Heathens, barbarians, false worship, and they usually have rites and practices that any civilized man would deem savage or wicked. The pagan religions are just this, history. They are gone since the unified church of Alden drove their hedonistic ways from our lands long ago.” James was quick to answer, not liking the blasphemies that the scroll entailed to begin with and hoping this was over soon.

“Then it would seem, since this group of throne-angel-children or whatever they are, are all related, is that not pagan?” Saberrak was confused, since he had read beyond a doubt that they all came from the same mother and father and fled together.

“Those words would have you killed in many kingdoms, Saberrak. That is heresy and blasphemy. Alden gave his wings for man and suffered greatly, he is the one true God. I will listen, as you are my friend, but be careful not to repea
t your words outside of here.” t
he knight looked at his feathered cross, the symbol of God, and prayed sile
ntly for the forgiveness of who
ever wrote the sc
r
oll and for the one reading it.

“Regardless, the creator sought revenge, and pronounced many of his children lords of
hell, death, the night
, and many other dark elements of the world. He plagued the creations of his rebellious son and wife, and began to destroy the temples that were raised in their names
with the help of another woman that Annar did not mention the name of
. That is when is says Alden, was torn by the throne angels of Gimmor, and when Annar gave his immortality to protect him. Annar writes of his imprisonment deep under the ground, and his visions. He says he saw the Carician temples destroyed and replaced by Gimmorian ones while he was chained, and that his worshippers could no longer pray to him and faded. His mother, also of the earth, kept him alive with her essence from afar, which shone through his eyes as a blue light, the only light he had
for thousands of years.
His curse was slavery, an enslavement that could only be undone
,
by a slave. So it is written there anyway.
”

“Saberrak, continue.” Ansharr nudged him.

“The light that is passed is the immortal power, the spirit of the God himself. Supposedly, I now have it in me.”

Everyone looked at Saberrak, then to James. They had seen the blue light from them both in some fashion, and knew they had both shared the story of a man with blue glowing eyes beneath Arouland. There was silence, uneasy and uncomfortable as the minds of all present sought answers within themselves as to the validity to such claims. Only Cristoff spoke to break the lack of any noise in the cavern.

“So then, the exodus
, or three, are over. So what is the purpose of this scroll?”

“There are two more. Annar wrote that he empowered this parchment with certain phrases that would pass on his power to one being, to build him a temple and make him known again. That will signify the fo
urth exodus, where he is allowed
back to the white moon
, yet not as a God any longer
. It also mentions that this will cause a great war with the creator. Then a fifth exodus will occur as the old ways of the Gimmorians are brought down, and their people seek refuge in
the holy lands to the south.” t
he minotaur paced, still trying to fathom what it all meant.
He concluded that it was of little importance to him, for now anyway.