Draconis' Bane (35 page)

Dion wanted to
assemble his army, march into the Great Expanse and conquer it.
Once the land was in his control, he reasoned that he could sniff
out any hint of
Draconis’ Bane
and squash it, root and twig.
It was only when Tristan reminded him that no one was certain the
Bane
operated out of the Expanse and also that no one who
had found their lair was ever heard from again, that the argument
had begun in earnest.

The women found their
bickering pointless, thus their inattention and gossiping among
themselves. Annadora would look over from time to time, smile
warmly at her husband and son debating endlessly and then resume
talking with the women. It was only when Euri began nodding off to
sleep that she put an end to the debate.

Boys.
She
sent, smirking slightly as they turned to see her motioning at Euri
fighting to keep her eyes open. Everyone chuckled as Euri’s eyes
shot open.

We’ll finish this
discussion in the morning.
She scolded them.

Everyone stood and
bade each other goodnight. Afterwards, Tristan walked slowly back
to his room where he flopped down on his bed. A fire crackling
merrily in the fireplace along the opposite wall soothed him as he
drifted off to sleep.

A short time later a
small hand touched his shoulder, gently shaking him awake. Tristan
mumbled incoherently, brushing the hand away. The small hand shook
him again, the young Prince turned over in bed to find Lesa sitting
on the edge of his bed. His eyes shot wide open and he came fully
awake as her musical laugh filled his room.

“Sorry to disturb
your rest my young friend.” She chuckled. “I have some interesting
news for you.”

“Interesting enough
to wake me up?” He smiled crookedly.

“I think so. I have
some news and a gift.” She replied matter-of-factly. Lesa closed
her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, when she opened her eyes
again they were again the vivid red eyes he remembered.

Born into this world
will be a son of a mighty King and Queen descended from dragon
bloodlines. He will shake the foundations of man and bring forth an
era when man and dragon will live together for the benefit of
all.

She paused
dramatically before finishing the prophecy.

Tonight a boy has
been born, both of his parents’ descendants of dragon blood. He
will grow to rule the world; it is up to his parents what kind of
ruler he will become.

Tristan considered
her musical pronouncement slowly in his mind. Dates and time spans
calculated over and over.

“Mina had our
child!?” He blurted.

Lesariu simply smiled
and nodded, staring deeply into his eyes.

“Wait. That doesn’t
make sense.” Tristan said.

“What doesn’t make
sense my friend?” She asked, tilting her head slightly and smiling
again.

“I was told that the
Bane
is hunting me because they believe I will fulfill a
prophecy.” He explained. The dragon in woman’s form nodded.

“But how can that be
if the same prophecy is made for my son?” He asked, completely
confused. He put aside his painful memory of Mina, still burning
like an empty pit in his stomach.

“The prophecy wasn’t
ever about you, young Prince.” She replied. “It was made long ago
by the great black dragon Henjis.”

“I don’t understand.
Why would
Draconis’ Bane
target me if the prophecy wasn’t
clear?” Tristan asked.

“Humans do many
strange things in the name of good.” She replied evenly. “Henjis
foretold the arrival of the first born son to a King and Queen
descended from dragon blood lines.” She explained.

“I don’t understand.
That would be me.” Tristan replied impatiently.

Lesa sighed as she
continued.

“No, only your mother
is a direct dragon descendent, as is Mina’s. She’s my
granddaughter.” She admitted.

Tristan was
dumbfounded, he couldn’t think of a question to ask, a witty
retort, even his breath seemed to fail him. The bittersweet pang of
love induced pain erupted in his heart again, making him want to
curl up in the corner of his bed and descent back into self-pity.
It was Lesa this time that reached out and touched his cheek.

“Worry not my young
friend.” She said soothingly. “You will see him soon, and the
reunion will be happy. Have faith in that. The future is yet
unwritten, and you and my granddaughter need to see to his
happiness.” She explained.

The young Prince
looked up at her, feeling completely powerless again. It was a
feeling that he hated more than any other. An enemy he could face,
sword in hand. Ghosts of feelings and mistakes of the past he
couldn’t undo were more than anyone should have to bear.

“Your son is quite
well and you will see him soon. For now you have a mission to
complete and that’s where my gift comes in.” She said quietly.

He looked up at her
as she smiled almost sadistically.

“The
Bane’s
Spy Master is in Metao.”

Tristans’ eyes veiled
over as he leapt out of bed and crossed to his wardrobe, yanked
open the doors and began pulling out his armor. A slight
restraining hand touched his shoulder as he reached into the
wardrobe again.

“Tristan, slow down.”
Lesa soothed. “You must start thinking about your actions. This
headlong rush into the unknown you do all the time.” She turned him
around and looked him in the eye.

“It’s going to get
you killed.” She concluded.

Tristan sighed, his
shoulders sagged slightly. He dropped his bracer, looked back into
her eyes.

“What would you have
me do?” His anger, always so close to the surface and ready to boil
over came forward. “They keep trying to kill me! Spells,
enchantments, assassins, mercenaries…when is it enough?!” He
ranted.

She pulled him with
surprising strength towards the fireplace, pushed his shoulders
down easily forcing him to sit. The rug underneath him was plush
and soft, with a faint smell of smoke to it from the fire. He
stared into the flames, losing himself in the simplicity and
soothing nature of them as they leaped playfully up the chimney.
Lesa sat down next to him and placed her hand around his shoulder
as a mother would comfort her son. Slowly, almost methodically she
chose her next words.

“You’ve gotten this
far on sheer determination, skill and largely by luck.” Sensing his
tension at the reference she quickly continued.

“You must admit,
Tristan, that your enemies thus far haven’t used a lot of what we
would call, cunning, in their hunt for you.” She concluded.

Tristan looked at
her, considering her words and weighing them slowly in his
mind.

“There you are.
Thoughtful, brooding Tristan, this is what you must be if you are
to survive.” She said lightly.

He turned back and
looked into the flames, seeking to use their calming effect on him
to clear his mind.

“You must master
yourself my young friend.” Lesa continued. “You can’t give into
your anger, hate and thirst for revenge.” She explained.

“How?” Tristan
muttered. “How can I do these things?”

“How did you do them
before?” She replied coyly.

“Before?” He
asked.

“Yes. I’ve seen
inside your memories my young friend.” She explained carefully. “I
saw the
Nightmare Spell’s
effect. I felt how real it was for
you. The pain, loneliness and abuse, it’s no small wonder why you
trust anyone anymore.” She mused. “How did you deal with your anger
there?”

“Meditation.” He
admitted. “A lot of time to get over things in silence didn’t hurt
either.” He replied sarcastically.

“Well, you don’t have
the luxury of time anymore. Time is running out for our kind and we
don’t have a leisurely pace for you to brood over your anger
anymore.” She said finally. “We need to teach you how to focus. Use
your anger as a focal point to give you clarity rather than blindly
lashing out and getting yourself killed.”

“We?” Tristan
asked.

“We.” A voice called
from the door.

Tristan spun his head
around to see William standing in the doorway. He walked in,
followed by an old man dressed in long white robes. The man’s face
was weather beaten and deeply tanned. His long hair, white as his
robes, ran down to his waist. He smiled widely and Tristan was
reminded of Williams’ typical white toothed grin.

“Tristan, I believe
you’ve already met my grandfather.” William introduced.

The old man stepped
forward taking Tristans hand as the young Prince stood up to greet
his guests. When their hands touched a flash of recognition hit
Tristan’s mind.

“Socolis?” He
muttered, looking from William to the dragon in human form.

“Oh very good lad.”
He replied with a laugh. “I’m called Otis in this form though.” He
winked roguishly, putting a hand to his side.

“What’s wrong?”
Tristan asked with concern.

Socolis waved him
off. “Just that damned spear, cut a little deeper than I
thought.”

“It’s time to leave.”
Lesa blurted, looking at Otis.

“Yes, I suppose it
is.” Socolis chuckled. “Well lad, get that wonderful armor on.”

Tristan was just
fastening the laces on his grieves when his sister walked into his
room. He noticed that she was covered head to toe in a long dark
brown heavy cloak as she entered the room. William turned and
smiled as she walked over and embraced him. They began chatting
animatedly. Again, Tristan was met with the feeling that he was
still missing far more of his memories than he had gained. Lately
he had begun to feel emptiness inside when confronted with
something that he couldn’t remember. It was as though he assumed
that whatever Draconis’ had done to him would have awakened
everything inside his mind and he would be himself again. Instead
the young Prince was still trapped, feeling like two minds in the
same body. At times he was moody and bitter, a legacy of his
personality before the
Nightmare Spell
. Other times he was
quiet, introspective and completely at odds with all of the
attention he was afforded. It was still as though he expected to
awaken from a dream and though it was terrible and dangerous, he’d
never felt so alive.

The truth was that if
this was a dream, Tristan wasn’t sure he
wanted
to wake up.
Between his first bittersweet love affair, the repeated attempts on
his life and the mountainous task set before him…this life was the
one that he loved. He was secretly scared that this was a dream and
the worst part about that fear was that he couldn’t share it with
the people he loved because he knew they would only reassure
him.

Tristan wasn’t sure
if their reassurance would put his troubled mind at ease or if it
would mean nothing because he believed it might be his own dreams
giving him what he needed most: love and acceptance. Shaking his
head he tried to clear his worries and doubts, trying to focus on
the here and now to fully enjoy his adventure, even with its danger
and likelihood of failure.

As Otis and Lesa
entered the room, Tristan concluded that they were right; he had
become angry and unfocused. The last fight, on the way to Irudin,
had gone poorly because of his anger and fear. Otis looked over at
him, concern clearly evident in his pale blue eyes. The old man
walked over and put his arm around Tristan, pulled his shoulder
closer to whisper so that no one else could hear him.

“The
Nightmare
Spell
was real young man; you’re not losing your mind.” He
smiled crookedly.

“You’re becoming
something more than you were shaping up to be. The
Bane
has
authored their doom and now we work to make that end come true.”
Otis consoled.

“Come on you two,
let’s be on our way.” Lesa called.

She walked out of the
room, not bothering to wait for an answer as Eurydice followed
right after her. William looked back at Tristan, grinned and
followed after. Otis patted Tristan on the shoulder and walked out
of the room as Tristan plucked his sword belt off of the hook near
the fireplace and followed after them.

Through Irudin keep
they walked as quickly and quietly as possible. Up familiar
staircases until they were out on the northern tower looking out
over the Vallius countryside cloaked in darkness. Socolis and
Lesariu moved away from the others, their human forms shining
brightly as they seemed to melt and smolder. Fine wisps of white
smoke trailed off their human forms as their bodies elongated.

Large snarling
snouts, luminescent in the dark of the night, appeared. Wings
unfurled and scaled legs ripped through sandals and became taloned
and lizard-like. Both of them dropped down on the palms of their
hands which grew talons. Slowly two large dragons emerged from the
blinding light.

The light abruptly
stopped and where an old man and beautiful woman stood now a white
dragon and a long serpent-like bronze dragon perched on the
battlements.

Come.
Lesariu
called, lowering her front left leg.

Tristan and Eurydice
climbed up on her leg with surprising agility while William climbed
up on Socolis with equally surprising speed. The three of them
smiled widely, all equally excited to be flying regardless of their
dangerous mission.

Ah the joy of
youth.
Socolis chuckled in their minds.

Everyone laughed as
the dragons beat their mighty wings, taking off over the towers and
walls of Irudin keep, heading north high in the sky where the air
was thin and cold.

~

“What news?” Asked
the consul over the book she was reading.

The hall was
illuminated by hundreds of candles in sconces scattered around the
room. The servant shuffled his feet slightly, dressed in the simple
grey robe of an acolyte. He fidgeted with the cord wrapped around
his waist, looking for the best way to proceed without incurring
her ever present wrath. He was one of her first acolytes, but he
doubted she would remember that. She surrounded herself with
powerful warriors, cunning spies and mages of incredible skill, a
lowly scribe would barely capture her notice. He was wrong. She
looked up at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously.