Wings of Arian (13 page)

“Of course I do. All magical creatures from the war know each other, especially those that worked with Arian.”

Kiora’s eyes lit with excitement. She was a bit fascinated with the writer of her book. “You knew Arian!”

“Of course. He was exceptional, especially for a human.”

“What do you mean, especially for a human?”Morcant looked at her and slowly lowered himself down to the ground folding his wings across his back. “Most humans are not of his caliber.”

Kiora sat down leaning against the cold earth wall. It was an odd sensation. The wall was cold from the damp earth and yet the room remained inexplicably warm. She could only assume the heat was coming from Morcant.

Settling in she looked at him and waited for him to continue. But he did not. He stared at her and she at him.

Finally Kiora said, “You said you wanted to show me why Emane made you so mad.”

Morcant let out a long sigh and the temperature in the room increased, along with the smell. Kiora struggled not to change her expression.

“Yes, I did,” Morcant said, “and here we are, in my home for the last thousand years.”

Kiora looked around the large dirt hole realizing that this is not where he had always lived.

“Where did you live before?”

Morcant’s eyes filled with a wistful look, remembering better days. “Ah, such a innocent question, with so many different answers. It has varied greatly over the course of my life. Some places happier than others.” He was lost for a moment in his own thoughts before he continued. “We lived everywhere and anywhere. We had freedom to live where we chose. Some of us chose mountain caves, others the forest, some were sea dwelling.”

“What about you? Where did you choose?”

Morcant smiled exposing rows of razor sharp teeth. “I chose to live in a valley between what you now call the Hollow and Dralazar’s lair.” His voice had taken on a lighter air as his mind took him to better days. “I made my home between two rolling hills, a river flowing between them, and lived there, happily, for some time.”

She had flown over that valley with Arturo, she was sure of it. It was beautiful, a far cry from where he was now.

“Why did you leave?” she asked timidly.Morcant’s eyes hardened a bit, “Humans.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t. Because after your race did what they did, they chose to forget that we existed.” Morcant settled in further leaning his enormous body against the wall. “Well, little one, would you like the long version or the short version?”

“The long one, of course.” She smiled.

“You truly are a curious one, Kiora. You remind me much of Arian,” he said before beginning his account. “Before the last war with Arian, dragons roamed the land. We lived wherever we chose and kept to ourselves, removing ourselves from the previous wars and squabbles that ran rampant amongst the magical community and your kind. When
that
war broke out, it was different; both sides were recruiting heavily, each one with their own version of events. Species by species we picked sides. As a general rule, species stayed together with only a few exceptions.”

“Like the Guardians and the Fallen Ones?” Kiora interrupted

“Yes,” Morcant continued, “As well as humans and dragons. Despite what your kind believes, humans and dragons are very much alike. We are fickle and impressionable.”

The humans were split with almost a third following Dralazar. He promised them everything they desired. Money, power, riches, land. They believed his promises of glory and followed like cattle to the slaughter, and slaughtered they were. Dragons are not tempted by such things and as a result sided with whichever side could best argue their stance. Reasons and arguments changed daily, so daily the dragons were switching sides. All but one of us.”

“You?” Kiora interrupted again.

“Yes. The chaos that the dragons caused in the battle was frustrating for both sides. You would be fighting a dragon on the battlefield one day, only to find them on your side of the line the next day. It is difficult enough in a battle to keep track of who is on what side without that. Imagine it, Kiora— a huge battlefield, through the fighting and the yelling you see us swooping through the lines, changing sides mid battle. They would see a member of their side do something they didn’t like and they would switch, just like that. Impossible.” Morcant shook his head. “I was the only one never to switch to evil. I never once believed Dralazar.”

“That’s amazing,” Kiora said softly.

“I don’t see it as amazing,” Morcant growled. “I see the rest of my kind as pitiful. After the war was over and my side had won, I was overjoyed and celebrated with the victors. Unfortunately all of the very recently converted dragons celebrated as well. If they switched sides during battle you can imagine how fast they switched sides once a conclusion had been reached,” he growled. “They cheered and blew plumes of fire into the air as if they had been fighting for good the entire time.”

The humans, however, could not forget the sight of the dragons on the battlefield. Each had been attacked in one way or another. After the battle, under order of the King of Meros, they set out to destroy any remaining sources of evil including the dragons, all dragons. It was impossible to know which dragons had done what, so we were all to be brought to justice. I had no choice Kiora. Those of us left were forced to flee and hide. The humans were methodical; searching everywhere a dragon had been known to live. The solution was to live where no dragon had ever lived, and here I am.”

“How many of you are left?”

“I am not sure. If I had to guess it would be under ten.”

Kiora looked confused “Don’t you keep in touch with others of your kind?”

“No.” He shook his enormous head. “Although they were quick to switch after the victory, once the extermination began they fell firmly onto Dralazar’s side. I fear their fickle ways may have been cured with the threat of extinction.”

“And yet you remain on our side?” Kiora asked incredulously.

“Yes,” he snorted, as if even he found it ridiculous.

“Why have you stayed true?” Kiora asked, pulling her knees up to her chest, fascinated with the tale.

“The choices that the humans made, including their choice to move dragons into the source of myths and legends, did not change what I knew to be true.”

“But you got so mad at Emane back at the Hollow.””

He stood up and stretched. “I said it didn’t make it less true. I didn’t say that it didn’t make me angry.”

Kiora was quiet for a while. “So, what is it that you believe?”

Morcant looked down at her from his full height, Kiora felt very small.

“Arian taught me about the power of goodness. He showed me how powerful good magic was because of its source. And I saw Dralazar on that battlefield.” His teeth snapped together. “He would promise them the world, but would throw them to their enemies if he thought it would benefit him.” Morcant stretched his neck out and rolled his head, stretching and pulling in each direction. Then he settled back down to the ground, heaving a large sigh as an old man whose body has passed its prime. “But, little one, I did not bring you all the way here just to talk about me. I would like to hear about you.”

“I am not very exciting.”

“Exciting or not, you are the Solus. And as such, you must have certain qualities that qualify you.”

Kiora’s stomach knotted up, she still had not figured out what it was about her that had qualified her for this. And although excited about her new found abilities, and the sudden exception of those gifts, she was troubled heavily with feelings of inadequacy.

“I don’t have much to tell you. I didn’t know I had magic until a few weeks ago.”

“Very interesting, you have progressed rapidly,” Morcant began. But then his head snapped to attention.

“What?” Kiora started to ask, but Morcant silenced her with a look.

He slowly shook his head back and forth and let out a slow “Shhhhh….” Morcant stood spreading his wings and shot out of the hole.

Kiora watched him in utter confusion. She strained her ears to hear what was going on, but heard nothing.

***

Dralazar sat back in his throne room, waiting for a reply from his smoke summons. His mind replaying the moment Kiora threw a shield strong enough to stop a pegasus. It should not have been possible, not without extensive training at least, and yet he had watched their escape through the pack leader’s eyes.

“Vitraya!’ His voice bellowed through the caves. He needed to find where the Solus was hiding and flush her out. They had to ferret out the Hollow.

Vitraya flew in, her wings black as night with hair to match.

“Yes my lord,” her voice was dark and cold.

“I need the Fallen Ones’ assistance in finding the Guardians.”

She looked at him intently, her eyes were so dull it was difficult to tell if they were green or gray. “She is with the Guardians?” she spat.

“Of course she is with the Guardians,” he spun the heavy silver ring around his finger grinning at her, “I hope your jealousy will speed your hunt.”

Vitraya hissed, throwing her stringy black hair over her shoulders.

Dralazar continued. “Raynor is not picking up any magical threads and the Hounds cannot get a scent.”

“That does not mean that she is with the Guardians. There are other ways of masking those things.”

“Yes, Vitraya, there are,” he spat back at her, his voice rising with carefully controlled anger. “I do not appreciate being questioned.”

“Of course, my lord,” Vitraya said, dipping her head. Her heavily jeweled dress sparkled with each movement.

“I want the Guardians found and their defenses brought down.”

“We can bring them down, but only for a few minutes.”

“I understand. I want you to find where they are hiding. Then I want you to come back here.”

“My lord?”

He leaned forward, slowly enunciating his words, “I want, the Solus.” Dropping back into his chair he finished, “After you find where the Hollow is, you will come back here, and then we will attack together. We must make the most of the few moments that we will have.”

“Why does my lord not come with us now?”

His anger broke and he rose out of his chair, “I told you I will not be questioned!” Sitting down, he took a deep breath and spoke through clenched teeth, “I will not be alone when you return. Now GO!”

Vitraya bowed and flew out of the throne room.

“Insolent little monster,” Dralazar grumbled. Once his forces found the Hollow, Eleana could pose a problem; one that he had already anticipated. The dragons were on their way, and would provide more than enough firepower to distract Eleana during the attack. Then Dralazar would be free to do what he needed to do— rid himself of the Solus.

As he turned to go, already celebrating his victory, a vision stopped him in his tracks. Pushing the vision outward he watched. What he saw brought laughter bubbling to the surface. He would go to Hollow, for the pleasure of destroying it, or more appropriately, the pleasure of watching Eleana’s devastation as he destroyed it. But is seemed the Solus was somewhere else entirely. A problem all too easily dealt with.

Chapter Seven

DISCOVERED

ALERIC CHASED AFTER EMANE as he stomped back through the woods. “Emane!” Aleric shouted.

“I don’t want to talk Aleric,” he shouted back over his shoulder.

Aleric was beginning to tire of this game. The young prince refused to have an honest conversation with him and it was becoming a detriment to the cause. “Emane, I need you to stop or I will stop you,” Aleric shouted forward.

Aleric hit a nerve. Emane stopped dead in his tracks, frozen, his shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths.

“Emane,” Aleric began.

Emane whirled around “You will stop me! Of course you will,” he yelled gesturing wildly, “because you can! Because I, “ he poked himself in the chest, “am nothing but an insignificant human who can’t even do magic. I am useless, helpless and now am not even allowed my own free will.” He pointed accusingly at Aleric. “If I don’t want to talk, you will stop me. If I say something a dragon doesn’t like, he almost sets me on fire. If I get too close to Kiora on an off day, she blows me up. I can’t compete with this magic!” Emane turned, stomping away. Aleric stepped forward ready to intervene when Emane whirled back on him.

“Oh and I am suppose to be the Protector of the Solus, so you gave me a magic sword!” He yelled shaking his sheathed sword at his waist. “Which is useless if am picked up, thrown, blown up or any matter of magical defenses, before I get within a hundred feet of them. What do you want from me Aleric? You have asked the impossible and don’t understand why I don’t want to talk?!” He threw back his head, laughing bitterly. “All I have wanted to do since the day I have arrived is to tell you ‘I quit,” Emane deflated, “but I can’t. And then I ask myself, for what? So I can fight the un- winnable fight?”

“Is that what you think this is?” Aleric asked. “Un-winnable?”

His head and eyes rolled back in a look of exasperation Aleric had seen far too many times at the castle

“YES! Aleric! Have you even listened to a word I said?”

“Of course I have Emane, and I can understand how you feel. But I don’t understand why it is that you do not understand more history than you do.”

He threw his hands into the air. “Really, Aleric, I just poured my heart out to you and you tell me that I need a history lesson!”

“Come with me, Emane.”

“What if I don’t want to come with you?”

“You do.” Aleric turned and walked away.

“Aleric, I am not coming!”

Aleric kept walking

“Aleric... I’m not!”

Aleric didn’t even flinch. He prodded his way through the forest smiling to himself, making sure not to glance backwards. It took a little longer than he thought but he heard the Prince crashing through the foliage behind.

“Crazy old man,” Emane muttered as he shoved branches out of his way.

They soon entered back into the clearing, still charred and smoking from dragon fire. “What are we doing?” Emane asked.