The Dragon God

  The double doors to the chapel were closed. Two frost dwarf guards stood at the sides and quickly pulled the entry open at her approach. She entered and stopped a few steps in, perusing the ceremonial chamber of prayer. The doors were slowly closed behind her. Extravagant sculptures of past dwarven warriors lined the edges leading to a raised platform of solid blue ice. Hundreds of candles skirted the steps leading up to the dais. Three huge statues stood at the top, representing the last three kings of the frost dwarves, including King Morthkin. Sparkling pillars of mined gems on either side, radiated a soft glow throughout the chamber and a kaleidoscope of colors splayed on the walls from the lit candles.

  Abawken was kneeling at the foot of the stairs. A small trail of smoke ascended in front of the warrior and Raina ascertained it was the burnt remnants of incense as the rich aroma permeated the room.

  “Abawken, I wish to speak with you,” she demanded as she walked straight toward him.

  The human did not stand or acknowledge her presence.

  “I don’t understand your vow of silence. If Bridazak, whom you had sworn to protect, were still here, he would want you to help the people of the land. We need to have you in the council, to help us lead, and to liaise with the humans of Manasseh’s former army.” Raina was now behind him.

  Abawken remained silent, and stood, but did not turn. He wore new clothing, his sleeveless tunic revealing his bronze and toned arms. The light brown hair of the fighter fell to his shoulders, glistening in the light of the room.

  Raina, waited, growing more infuriated by his silence, until finally she grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn and look at her. His head was bowed slightly as he came around. He brought up his clutched hands, not holding incense, as she suspected, but instead a bouquet of wild flowers, which he extended toward her. He raised his head up slowly, calm, confidently, and said, “Raina, you have ended my vow of silence.”

  “What is going on, Abawken? I don’t understand all of this.”

  His ocean blue eyes bore into hers and she suddenly felt a quickening of her heart.

  Abawken answered, “I know, but I will explain, just listen to what I have to say.”

  “Explain then,” she refocused her determined stance.

  “Here, these are for you.” She hesitated to take the flowers, but he insisted, “Do you know how hard it is to find flowers in such a place as this? I had to…never mind, I am talking too much.”

  “No, you are talking too little and not about why you are here. Why are you so nervous? What is this all about?”

  “Raina, we have built a connection beyond my expectations, and—,” he faltered with his words, “I’m sorry. I’m a little anxious now.”

  “Anxious? What are you talking about?”

  “Raina, I love you,” he blurted. Her countenance shifted slightly and she waited for Abawken to continue. “We have been to Heaven, we have seen death, but now let us live life, together.” Abawken reached out and gently touched the scar on her face, “I want your scars to now be mine, I want us to be written in the books and songs of this entire world as a symbol of true love. Raina Sheldeen, will you take me as your husband and be my friend until my last breath of this life?” Abawken bent to one knee and took hold of her hand while her other hand grasped the bouquet. He looked up into her emerald eyes, relieved that he had finally asked the question that burned in his heart.

  She paused for what seemed like an eternity and gave her answer, “No.”

  Abawken’s glint of a smile faded as he slightly gasped and before he could say anything, she pulled him up to stand and said, “It is customary within the Sheldeen elves to marry our own and not intermingle with the other races. I am sorry, Abawken.” She turned to walk out.

  Abawken shouted before she was at the door, “He said you would say that.”

  Raina stopped and turned around to look at him, “Who would say what?”

  “Your father.”

  “What are you talking about now and be hasty with your response Abawken.”

  “I spoke with him.”

  She walked back to stand face to face with the handsome human, “Don’t play games with me.”

  “I am not good at games, my Raina. I met your father in the Lost City, and asked for his blessing for your hand in marriage.”

  “You saw my father? I-I,” she stuttered for the words.

  “You have his eyes and his personality,” Abawken continued as more shock registered on Raina’s face. “What was the last thing he said to you in Heaven, before we came back?”

  She regained herself, “He said to embrace—”

  Abawken finished for her, “Change.”

  “Yes, embrace change, but I didn’t understand what he was talking about.”

  “Raina, it was me. He gave me his blessing. I have lived only three decades while you have lived several centuries. My time as a human is short and though you may outlive me, I want to spend my every waking moment with you. I want us to have children and there I will live on, through them, through you.”

  She stared at Abawken and watched the human go to one knee once again, “Raina Sheldeen, will you take me as your husband and be my friend until my last breath of this life?”

  “No,” she paused, Abawken stood abruptly and then she continued before he could respond, “I will be your best friend and lover beyond this life and the next.”

  Abawken released his held breath, smiled, and then wrapped his strong arms around her, sweeping her off her feet and twirling in pure joy. “I love you. I have always loved you.”

  She responded, “I admit I wished at times for this, but I did not think it could come to pass.”

  His mouth opened in shock, but Raina took the opportunity and passionately kissed Abawken. They were lost in one another, finally out in the open with their feelings. They released, she opened her eyes slowly, and saw his still shut, enjoying the kiss he had imagined for so long.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  He smirked and said while still in ecstasy, “I feel elven.”

  She laughed, “Then you need to finish learning the language, quickly.”

  His eyes opened, “How do you say, I love you?”

  She leaned in and whispered in his ear and then pulled away with a smile.

  “Alluve,” he said.

  The boisterous laughter within the war council abruptly halted when Abawken sullenly entered. Dulgin left his seat and hurriedly approached the human.

  “It’s okay, Huey. It was a valiant try, lad,” Dulgin quietly consoled, patting his friend on the back in pity.

  His head hung low, Abawken was ushered to an empty chair. He sat and quietly muttered, “I just can’t believe it.”

  No one said a word, and then Raina re-entered the chamber, a new sense of focus and purpose on her face. Several eyes glared at her for priding herself in crushing Abawken’s heart.

  El’Korr stood and addressed her directly, “Raina, the meeting is adjourned. We think it would be best to disband and get some rest.” The dwarf started to wave the others to go and one by one they caught on and began to stand.

  “Wait,” Raina halted them. “I have something to say.” Everyone froze in place, uncertain if the mystic might blast them where they stood. “We have other planning to discuss, so I suggest each of you take your seats. No one leaves.”

  She waited for them to find their chairs. Each of them had their heads held low, except for King Morthkin and King El’Korr. Raina smiled once again.

  “Now that I have your attention, we need to start preparing for our next adventure.”

  “Raina, what are you saying? Did you find another Dragon God we need to destroy?” El’Korr chuckled, but Raina ceased his chuckles when she stared at him blankly.

  “A vision came into my mind, and what I saw will shock you—will shock you all,” she looked to each face at the table, her intense eyes boring into them. A hush fell in the room and El’Korr’s brows slightly raised in wonder b
efore he finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

  “What did you see?”

  “A sacred event in the realm which will most certainly alter the course of history.”

  The entire room was captivated and waited in anticipation of what she spoke of. The dwarven king stood and Raina quickly approached him. She leaned close to the orange bushy beard of El’Korr and said, “I saw a new union.”

  El’Korr blinked and stepped back slightly, “Which armies unite against us, Raina?”

  Raina laughed, “No armies.” She turned and then addressed the entire room, “Abawken and I are to be wedded.” The human fighter proudly stood and took her arm. They nestled close, side by side.

  The stunned faces melted to joy as they realized the elven Mystic had turned the tables upon them all.

  “And you will be leading the service, King El’Korr,” she announced.

  He looked around at everyone and then said, “Wonderful, a war, a funeral, and now a wedding. Why not?”

  Daysho held the iron chest by two rungs on its sides as the massive arched double-door cracked and grinded open. Huge giants pulled the thick rope pulley system to open the gate to Ravana’a castle within Tuskabar. Several black-hooded mystics, hands hidden within their sleeves and faces shadowed, stood on the other side, waiting.

  “I have a message for the Horn King,” Daysho announced.

  Insidious laughter mysteriously and ubiquitously echoed in his ears. Daysho entered the slate floored keep and the doors slowly shut behind him. The robed mages turned in unison and he followed behind them as they walked deeper into Ravana’s domain. There were no torches, no sounds, not even the shuffling feet of the ones he trailed, and the walls were bare of any art or tapestries. Daysho’s senses within the dark confines navigated him through the corridors. He was led to an open chamber, where the mystics stopped and stood resolute in a bowing posture at the sides to allow him to enter.

  Grey marbled pillars lined side by side in the middle of the sparse hall, cascaded toward a vacant throne, fashioned of bones, at the end, upon a dais. Red embers within bucketed braziers, cast an eerie glow with shifting shadows.

  “I am here to deliver a message,” Daysho repeated himself.

  A melodious female voice echoed, “Approach and deliver your precious message, Daysho.”

  Her voice had a menacing sharpness while smooth and alluring at the same time. He walked toward the throne, not bothering to try to pinpoint the evil West Horn King. Daysho stopped at the foot of the steps, placed the iron box on the ground, and unlatched the hinge. He backed away three steps and waited.

  From his left, he heard slithering, but Daysho remained resolute.

  The suave voice returned, “What is in the coffer?”

  “Your message.”

  “An interesting way to deliver a message. I do like originality. Open it.”

  Daysho moved as instructed and flung the chest lid to reveal the bald, tattooed head of Veric, her personal mystic. Daysho backed up to his former position, but bumped into something. A strong reptilian musk smell bombarded his senses and the distinct hiss of snakes sounded around him. The hypnotic sensation of the smooth scales slid on his neck and caressed his scalp.

  She whispered in his ear, “Are you looking to be hired, assassin? Why do you bring me this?”

  Daysho did not answer and the eyes of the deceased Veric, flared open. An untenable, hollow voice came from the mage, “I wanted to remind you that I have not forgotten, Ravana.”

  Her green scaly figure came into full view of Daysho as she slithered forward. The snakes snapped at the human as she passed by. The youthful skin on her face was attractive, but the charm quickly evaporated when her vampiric fangs prominently displayed. A mesmerizing rattle followed as her long tail slid behind her.

  “It would have been better if you gave me your message personally. I would have enjoyed you,” she responded.

  Veric’s mouth continued to be used by the mysterious spirit possessing his head, “Anything you hold dear, I will destroy, Ravana.”

  “Oh, was Veric dear to me? He was of some use, but there are others, always others. I must have wronged you somehow. I am a merciful king, tell me what you want and I can help you.”

  “I want her back, Ravana, and will not stop until you release her to me.”

  “You are indeed an enigma. I like this game. Give me her name.”

  “Kiratta Green.”

  “Oh, yes, a beautiful human, and one who stole the heart of my true love. It is good to hear from you Romann de Beaux. How are you?”

  “Release her, Ravana. Centuries have passed and you know my heart still belongs to her. She is innocent.”

  “Innocent, you say? Not likely. I was merciful to her and to you, my love.”

  “I am always watching you, and I will live forever until I see your damned heart crushed with my own hand.”

  “Romann, Romann, you are so dramatic. I am the ruler here and I will rule as I please. Your sweet Pirate’s Belly is only allowed to operate because of me. Come home, my darling, and let us rule together.”

  “Never. My revenge will come someday. The four Horn Kings will fall—one has already. The realm has begun to change, I can sense it. You should be mindful of the recent events. You can’t hide inside your tower forever.”

  “I am not hiding, my dear, I am waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “For you. It breaks my blackened heart that you toss my feelings for you like the waves upon your ship.”

  “You have cursed us both, Ravana, but I have not turned one soul to a foul being you converted me to be.”

  “Not surprising, Romann. You were always the hero, never the villain.”

  “I won’t stop until you release Kiratta from the curse of Oculus.”

  “I wouldn’t assume otherwise. Who is your messenger boy? He is cute, can I have him?”

  Daysho’s heart quickened, but he refused to make eye contact with the medusa-like vampire. He stood his ground, hands at his side. Ravana slid past him slowly and he gulped. Romann did not answer her.

  Ravana’s voice trailed in the distance behind him, “You may leave, Daysho. Give my best to your master, but be mindful, Assassin. I know where you live.”

  Daysho did not hesitate and turned to walk out, eyes looking at the ground. His heart stopped when she appeared suddenly before him, blocking his exit.

  “Are you forgetting something?”

  He floundered in his response, “My apologies, I am uncertain as to what you mean.”

  “Take what you brought out of my chamber, Human.”

  “Of course.”

  “Look at me, Daysho,” she commanded.

  He paused and shook his head slightly.

  She said, “I will not turn you to stone, trust me. After a while, statues become so droll and boring. I want to see your eyes and I want you to see mine. Now look at me!”

  Daysho raised his head and his eyelids opened wider, until finally seeing her glowing sapphire orbs.

  “Good,” she said. “Now we understand each other. I have seen your soul and you have seen mine. You may leave.”

  He bowed his head, backed himself to the metal chest, closed the lid, and carried it out the way he came in. The doors to her chamber thumped closed.

  Daysho stood before Romann de Beaux, aboard his ship, The Rose.

  “You have done well, Daysho”

  “Then you will give me what you promised?”

  “Yes, you will be the first that I have ever turned. There is no going back, Daysho. I pray you heed my words and recant your decision.”

  “No, this is what I want.”

  “So be it. The rules of a vampire are different than anything you can imagine. Those turned unknowingly, become Vamplings, the weaker of the species, but those turned by their choice retain all of their past skills and become stronger each passing year.”

  “I understand, my master.”

  “Once you transform,
you know what needs to happen next.”

  Daysho looked directly into Romann’s swirling red and blue eyes, an evil grin on the assassins face, “Yes, you will have your army, that is certain.” Daysho tilted his head, revealing his ripe veined neck. Romann stared at the assassin, hesitant to alter the pure life before him. He had strategized year upon year, decade upon decade, century upon century, but no thought of ever transforming a living soul to a foul and lost spirit like himself had ever crossed his mind. He hated what he was, but even more, he longed to be united with his true love. “There is no other way,” he thought to himself, “but to fight evil with evil.” He splayed his fangs and sunk them deep into the human’s flesh.

  Abawken and Raina strolled arm in arm through a remote section of King Morthkin’s kingdom. They were given privilege to enter a sacred hall the frost dwarves called Klusheed.

  “We are almost there,” Raina said softly.

  Raina smiled and Abawken asked, “Are you going to tell me where we are going?”

  “Not yet. You will see shortly.”

  Abawken noticed the lighting in this particular area of the dwarven construction had a faint hue of orange within the blue-iced walls. He wondered what their destination could be as they passed through numerous guards stationed at strategic intervals leading to this section of the mountain castle, but didn’t notice much else, other than Raina. They were together, and his world was right.

  They rounded a bend on their walk and came to a brilliant gold door, the apparent source of the orange hue reflecting off the ice.

  Abawken waited as Raina walked to the door, which magically opened on its own. The human fighter staggered forward as the majesty of the chamber beyond captured his breath.

  “Welcome to the Garden of the Gods,” Raina said as Abawken, mouth open, eyes-wide, stopped at the doorway next to her.