The Dragon Rock
Chapter 2. One Peace Lost
The afternoon was slowly turning into evening, although the sun was still visible above distant, gloomy mountaintops. Arios was sitting on his cliff, and holding a small instrument with strings and a long neck in his lap. Light tune could be heard far in the mountain silence. On the rock above him sat a little human-like creature with slender limbs and pointed ears. Talluellen, mountain elf, liked to listen to the Arios’ music much more than the sound of his voice. His kind lived mostly near big rocks, rarely showing themselves to the shepherds, who didn’t believe in their existence any more. Arios could hear them often, in peaceful nights, playing, dancing and having joy in the moonlight. Sometimes, in the morning, he would found before his door a small basket woven of leaves and small branches, filled with blueberries, blackberries and strawberries. Talluellen’s people were mischievous, but friendly to the human race.
“Our visitor is high-born,” said Arios when he finished with playing the melody.
“I don’t say that it matters to me, but he didn’t even try to show any gratitude for the hospitality.”
“Your race is ungrateful. Play more!” Talluellen was not in the mood for conversation.
“No, I won’t.” said Arios firmly. “You see more and better than me. Tell me, what is going on?”
“Don’t ask me. Ask him. He isn’t here by accident. And now, play!” Little elf jumped from the rock to the ground in front of man. His body assumed the colour of the grass. The mountain elves could be seen only by those whom they permitted to see them.
Arios gave up arguing and started to play a merry tune. It was impossible to argue with the little people. They always did and said only what they wanted. Before he finished playing, Talluellen suddenly jumped and disappeared behind the rock. Arios looked down the slope. Big strides were carrying the young man, Orin, toward him.
He came to him, panting slightly. The sword was hanging on his belt. His face was youthful and regular. He had a thin scar across the brow, which extended to his short-cut hair. His glance revealed a man who was used to giving commands. Even his torn, unskilfully patched clothes did not lessen his image of superiority. He was wearing his dark travel cloak.
“So, this is your pasture,” he stated, sprawling himself on the ground beside the shepherd.
“I have slept enough.”
Arios looked at him with a smile. “Now that you have recovered, could you tell me whom I have rescued? You don’t look to me like common mercenary. Or the things have changed since I left the world of men?”
“I don’t know how long you were absent, but I am sure little has changed. For better, at least,” answered Orin. “I am Orin ar den Raamternan, son of Argen, king of the Plain Countries. I began a holy and grand quest, but the destiny decided to test my determination. Now it seems to me that the quest has already ended, even though it hasn’t really started yet.”
“I knew that you are not a beggar,” said Arios. “If it isn’t a secret, may I learn something of your holy quest?” asked he, intentionally sarcastic. However, behind his question lurked a feeling of unease. He knew that people with quests in life could be very dangerous - for themselves as well as for others.
“It is of no concern for a common peasant!” flared Orin, who was rather experienced in flaring at others. He was also annoyed because of the shepherd’s constant failing to show at least a little awe toward the noble guest.
Arios was not disturbed.
“It really isn’t of any concern for a peasant. But I am no peasant. Besides, why does it matter whether your quest is or isn’t my concern - just tell me the story. I will not, for sure, betray you. I don’t have anyone to betray you to,” said he, smiling softly.
Orin was silent. His glance was directed toward the distant Dragon Rock. In the early dusk the tiny speckles above it weren’t visible.
“The rock of the dragons!” said he quietly.
“It was never so clearly visible from my castle! It must be the highest mountain on the whole world!”
He turned to Arios.
“All right. I will tell you everything, if you tell me your story. It seems to me that you also have something to disclose.”
“Agreed!” said Arios.
When the story was told, he was not able to hide his wonder.
“I have never heard of anything like this! The Ring of the Kings! A grand quest.” He smiled. “But, you will never make it alone.”
“Why?” asked Orin.
“The Blue Mountains are a strange place. It was said that many heroes, greater than you, searched there for their dreams. Only a few have found what they wanted. The majority found something quite different.”
“Now it is your turn for storytelling.” interrupted Orin.
“It is a short story,” said Arios and continued: “I came from Otram, a country hundreds of miles to the east from here. Like you, I was also always interested in power. I wanted to change the world. It is a desire of most of the young fools. But, unlike others, I was really able to do it. I was born with a natural talent for controlling forces of nature hardly comprehensible to most people. In my childhood days still, they brought me to the Temple of the Consecrated. I stayed there until I was twenty years old and have learned all I could. By then, even my teachers were in fear of me. Very quickly, I became the sorcerer at the king’s court. It was a tradition for every nobleman to have his own sorcerer. The king was bound to have the best one. In the beginning, I was content; I saw many opportunities ahead. So many things should have been changed; the way of people’s life could have been improved, the hunger overcame... but rather quickly I came to understand some other truths of life. Nobody really wanted changes. The rich were satisfied to live on the backs of the common people, the common people were satisfied they could blame nobility for all their misery, and nobody paid any attention to the words of a sorcerer, even though he was a king’s sorcerer. The noblemen used sorcerers only for entertainment.”
“You don’t like the nobility?” asked Orin.
“Ah, since I grew up, I generally dislike people,” said the sorcerer. “Or I’m trying to convince myself I do,” added he and continued:
“So, I came into conflict with many, and realized that my power meant nothing, the way I understood it. By using it, I could only bring harm on people, even when it looked like helping them. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Then the war came. Hordes of the barbarians from the south were pouring toward our kingdom. The king gathered an army, ready to defend the borders of Otram to the death. Death of his soldiers, of course.
“I wanted something different. You see, the magic of the Consecrated is a magic of man’s heart and spirit. It has a power over those. The spirit of man hides an enormous energy, but those who can wake it are few.”
“The old man said the same thing!” Orin interrupted. “The Ring of the Kings dominates over the human spirit, but also over all other creatures and objects which have a soul.”
“Yes, it is possible that all magic uses the energy of the human spirit. I don’t know that. There are so many things I still don’t know even after years of study,” said Arios “Anyway, in my madness and thoughtlessness I was convinced that I could prevent the slaughter. I entered the areas of the unknown, where even the greatest sorcerers before me dared not enter, and released a terrible force.
“Both the kingdom of Otram and the raiders disappeared in fire.”
Arios paused for a moment and looked into the distance. The dusk was setting above the slopes. The goats were eager to return to the safety of their fold.
“What happened then?” asked Orin quietly.
“For some time I wandered through the various kingdoms. The power remained in my mind. I wasn’t able to run away from it. I did not choose my sleeping places; I was more often starving than not.”
“Why haven’t you used your magic?”
“I never used magic again. Great power can consume a man in no t
ime. And it can destroy everything it touches.”
“The power can serve good causes, too.”
“In the man’s world one could hardly tell good from evil and be sure that it is right. That’s why I left. Since then I am here. That is the whole story.”
He rose and turned to the herd.
“Let’s go home,” said he.
For the next few days Orin followed the shepherd to the pastures. They haven’t had much conversation, because it seemed pointless to disturb the silence of high meadows, the peace of ancient pines. Those were quiet days, something very uncommon in his life. The wounds healed slowly, but safely. Arios’ healing herbs soothed his painful flesh. The painful memory of the horrible night healed with the wounds.
Most of the time he spent on the cliff from which the Dragon Rock was visible. It was impossible to estimate from his point of view how far it actually was. It was also impossible to find out if a man could ever enter the land of the dragons. The chance of getting there alone seemed ridiculously small. And the only human being in this wilderness was his strange host.
“Come with me,” said he on a sunny morning, one of those mornings when nothing seems impossible and hopeless.
Arios was silent. The company of the proud prince had left its print on him, awakening in him some indefinite longing for the old ways of life, which he gave up long time ago. He knew it would be hard to stay utterly alone again. It mattered no more whether he wanted it or not; his peace was aggravated.
“If we succeed, I’ll bring you back among people with greatest honours. You will be king’s sorcerer again, at the court of the most powerful man in the world!”
“I don’t want to be a sorcerer,” said Arios.
But, he thought, you do want to come back among people - admit it at least to yourself, even if you don’t admit it to this short-tempered prince who thinks a journey through the Blue Mountains is the same as a walk through the garden of his castle. You want to come back and, at the same time, it is the most terrifying thing on the world. You have been alone for too long. The silence became your habit. The emptiness filled you. Maybe the dragons have a solution for your problem. Maybe they could set you free of the power that ruined your life. Nobody knows anything about the ways of dragons. If we could make good our way there, and if they grant us our wishes, what then? Would I continue living in the world of men?
“I’m still going to go, even if you aren’t,” said Orin. “I don’t want to return from the quest before it even started.”
“I think I’ll stay here.” Arios was very quiet.
The goats grazed, peacefully, in the sunshine.
“Then you will, at least, supply me for the road.” Orin’s face darkened.
The following day, early in the morning, he went, with sword on his belt, hunting bow and arrows, the sack filled with food on his back, dressed warmly for the chill mountain nights. The snow was common thing in the mountains, even in the middle of summer. The smile, which he managed to set on his face at the departure, was twisted and restless.
They parted without a word.
Arios repeated in vain the old saying that man must be content with what he has, more and more doubting the wisdom of this. He sat on the cliff, watching the abyss, while Orin was moving out of the sight behind the hill. The seed of restlessness was planted in his mind and he didn’t know how to get rid of it.