Omensent: Rise of the Shadow Dragons (13 page)

Veren
's face had grown red, partly from embarrassment, and partly from lack of oxygen.

She stared up into the night sky with longing, remembering the
simple joy of feeling the wind beneath her wings and the freedom that was lost to her so long ago. She stretched her one full wing and the stump that was all that remained of other, yearning to take to the sky, but she knew those days had long past.

She snarled, tearing her gaze from the heavens. She turned to stare upon
the small black dragon that trembled before her. She may be crippled, but she was still the brood mother. All of her kind followed her without question, as they well should. "What have you discovered, Tar?" She demanded, settling down in the rocky clearing outside her volcanic cavern.

"They seem to know." The smaller dragon whimpered, edging away fearfully. "Scarlet dragons have been seen scouring the lands in search of us, but so far there have
n't been any encounters."

The crippled dragon snarled in a
nger and the smaller dragon backed even farther away. "I did not wish for our presence to be known yet! The time is not yet right!"

"
The brood is growing restless! They are ready to extract their revenge upon our enemies!" Tar whined. "And we still have to feed! We are careful not to be seen, but it is only a matter of time before our enemies confirm our return!"

The crippled dragon growled, remembering the night eons ago when she was
maimed, and her and her brood had been banished from the world. They were cast into the bowels of the earth by their god, Draco, where they remained as the centuries past, not awake, but quite not asleep. Then, something cataclysmic occurred that shook the world to its very core, and she and her brood were suddenly released from their banishment, free to emerge once again into the world! It had been three years since that fateful night, and she would soon release her brood to search out and destroy those responsible for their banishment.

"There was something
else," The small female dragon continued hesitantly. "It is said that the crimson serpents were
also
imprisoned, long after we were banished. They were released back into this world only recently."

"Where did you hear this?"

"The spawn. I would not mention it, knowing the spawn for the pitifully stupid creatures they are, but their release seems to coincide with ours."

She stared at Tar thoughtfully. "How were they imprisoned?"

"A sorcerer enslaved them inside of a gem several centuries ago. They were released when it was merged with a sword that was the key to the gem's power. It's said that the sword now controls them."

"And who released them?"

Tar shook his head. "That's where the story grows strange. They say that it is a dragon man that now wields that blade."

"A dragon man?"

The small dragon nodded. "They say that he is a man like no other they have encountered. He supposedly has the mark of the dragon upon him. They believe the blood of dragons flow in his veins."

"How is that possible?" The crippled beast sounded intrigued.

"You know how the spawn entertain themselves on occasion." Tar chuckled darkly. "Apparently, this dragon man was the result of one of those encounters."

She pondered this for several long moments
. "And this dragon man carries a sword that controls our enemies?"

Tar nodded, inching closer.

"Having that sword in my possession would be the ultimate revenge!" She exclaimed, her eyes gleaming red in the darkness. "To banish them, as they banished us so long ago!" She whipped around to stare at Tar. "We must find out if the story is true! If that sword exists, I
will
have it! Have the spawn scour the continents for this dragon man. If he
does
have this magical sword, then we will destroy him and take it for ourselves!"

"As you wish, Moth
er." Tar turned and launched herself into the air, quickly disappearing into the night.

The crippled dragon slowly turned and lumbered into her volcanic cavern, her mind racing with thoughts of revenge.

**********

Damion and
Veren set off from Livingston three days later after saying their farewells with the royal couple. Hundreds of people lined the streets as they made their way through the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled Dragon Lord as he passed.

Damion tried hard to ignore the somewhat
skittish crowd, but found it quite difficult as many began to cheer as he passed. The story of how he exposed Sorsos as a fraud and transformed him into a donkey had spread like wildfire. It had grown quickly apparent that Sorsos was despised by many of the nobles, and nearly all of the common folk. Now that he was no longer capable of fulfilling his threats, many people seemed to breathe far easier.

"It seems you have managed to win the people over."
Veren commented as they rode through town. "Sorsos must have been insufferable if this many people are happy at his removal!"

Damion's eyes seemed to miss
the cheering faces to see the frightened and suspicious people in the crowd. Many of the on lookers wore angry expressions as they watched him pass, and still others stared at him with open hate. He knew they blamed him for the dragon attacks, and many still believed that the beasts terrorizing their lands were under his control.

Veren
seemed to read his thoughts. "The others will come around eventually."

A skin
ny dirt covered man lurched drunkenly from the crowd to stand in the road blocking their way. "It's your fault!" He screamed at Damion, swaying slightly as he stared at Damion. "It's your fault that those beasts are killing our people!"

Damion reined in Storm abou
t ten feet from the drunken man and stared at him with sad eyes.

"It's your fault
that they destroy our homes and devour our cattle!" The man spat, his eyes full of tears. "Your fault that our families are being slaughtered!"

The crowd lining the street had fallen silent, and everyone stood watching expectantly.

"What happened to you, man?" Veren asked sympathetically.

"
A dragon fell upon the farm I worked on, destroying everything!" The man looked at Veren, the tears now flowing freely from his eyes. "It struck in the dead of night, belching flames from above. Its scales were black, and seemed to absorb the darkness around it! It destroyed everything! Only a few of us managed to get out alive!" He looked back to Damion with hate filled eyes. "I curse the day you were brought into this world!"

Veren
started to reply, but Damion waved him off. "I'm truly sorry if my actions have brought anyone harm." He said, his voice full of sorrow. He nudged Storm forward and passed the weeping drunk without another word.

They made it the rest of the way out of the city without
any further encounters, and were soon heading north along a well traveled trade road with Snowfeather gliding silently overhead.

It was early spring, and the morning air was crisp. Their horses were soon steaming as they passed through the country side,
making good time on the well maintained road.

Damion
remained silent as they trotted passed the orderly farms that dominated the countryside. Even though it was still early spring, there were already workers toiling in the fields, preparing the land for the coming season. Every now and then they would pass a farm that had been destroyed and burned to the ground, but there was little remaining at these ruined sights, so they continued without slowing, knowing the beast responsible was long gone.

It was late evening when they arrived at a small village with a hand full of stone buildings.
They easily located the only inn, which was also the village tavern, and led their horses to its well kept livery.

"Watch yourself around this horse." Damion warned the
stable hand as he handed over Storm's reins. "He's a bit aggressive."

The
stable hand shrugged. "A horse is a horse. I've yet to meet one I couldn't handle." He gave the warhorse a impressed look. "Big beast though, isn't it?"

Storm snorted
and then pawed at the ground aggressively.

Damion laughed, then murmured to
Veren. "I tried to warn him."

"That you did."
Veren replied with a smile.

The left the unsuspecting man to his fate and made their way into the inn.
After they had secured rooms for the night, they found a table in the crowded tavern and ordered food and drink.

"How far did we manage to travel today?" Damion asked as he plucked a turkey leg from the tray of food the serving girl placed in front of him.

Veren shrugged. "About twelve leagues. We made fairly good time since the roads are so well maintained. The royal family created a work force centuries ago that's only purpose is to patrol and maintain the roads of the kingdom. It makes the transporting of goods from the local farms to the larger markets in the cities much easier and more efficient." He grabbed a turkey leg for himself, then settled back in his seat. "The Road Legion is the reason our country is so prosperous. They're not only skilled engineers, but formidable warriors. They are entrusted with guarding these roads from bandits and highwaymen."

"Is there
a lot of that here?"

Veren
shook his head. "Not this far south. But the area near the border of Deiria has been known for the occasional attack on merchant caravans. It's usually a bunch of Deirians that crossed the borders looking to find an easy mark. The Road Legions tends to deal with these men harshly, so it doesn't happen often."

"How long will it take
for us to reach the border of Deiria?"

"At least three weeks. Maybe closer to four. We still have a long way
to go before we reach the lands of those brigands."

"What are the Deirians like?
" Damion asked, discarding the turkey bone and grabbing another leg. "Will we have much trouble crossing the border?"

"
It won't be easy. Relations between our two countries have never been good, and with recent events, they'll probably be even more suspicious of strangers entering their lands." The one eared man took a long drink from his tankard, then continued. "Their lands are much more heavily wooded than our kingdom. Our people have spent thousands of years developing our lands into the orderly and efficient kingdom it is now. The Deirians, on the other hand, spend most of their lives wandering through their extensive forests. They are very skilled hunters, and much of the trade that occurs between our people revolve around furs and fresh meat that they gather. In return, they get access to the goods produced on our farms. Otherwise, our people have very little contact. We don't actively prohibit our intermingling with their people, but it's definitely frowned upon."

Damion noticed a doddering old man who had been slowly shuffling in their direction, trying hard to appear nonchalant.
It was obvious that he had heard them talking, and the old man seemed to be quite interested in what they were discussing.

Damio
n kicked Veren under the table, then gestured to the new comer, who had shuffled a few feet closer and was now pretending to inspect his tankard of ale closely.

After several long moments of silence, the old man sighed heavily. "I'm guessing I've been noticed?" He asked
in a gravelly voice, without turning around.

Veren
snorted in amusement. "Aye, you've been noticed."