CHAPTER 55 – CHANCE MEETING
Translucent pulse-waves rang out around him as he clutched the Ignaleos Cor. As far as Malinor could tell he was phasing in and out of the cor realm. The gemstone was not reacting well to the phase-shift. It was tearing itself apart in the process. The ocean gem radiated within Malinor’s hand. He could feel the burning sensation. He did not release his clutch. He let the pain cover his forearms. The gem was behaving erratically. What was happening to it was completely unnatural, brought on by human meddling. He could not handle the unyielding weight it was putting on him. His strength was failing. The burning sensation took a hold of him. He had no choice. The pain seeped into him mercilessly, overwhelming him. Malinor screamed.
The dark lord conjured a cry so loud it mimicked that of his kingdom’s namesake. The scream was echoed from the clouds. After a few minutes, the clouds parted by an unnatural current. The silhouette of wings darted across the sky, swooping, and enlarging as it got closer and closer. A dragon landed beside Malinor as he suffocated under the Ignaleos Cor.
He kicked and squirmed, splashing white sand everywhere. The dragon walked up close to Malinor, allowing him to get a good look while still getting crushed by the gem. He could see a rider mounted on the approaching redback dragon. The dragon tried to kick the gem off Malinor. Unfortunately for him, it did not budge.
The dragon rider had the dragon fly back around and shoulder charge into the immovable gem. No matter what they tried it was too powerful. The rider dismounted and took out her canteen. Malinor now realized she was female. She poured the water from the canteen onto the gem and down off Malinor, onto the sand.
A wave of release washed over Malinor. The Ignaleos Cor slid off his chest and down into the sand. Malinor tried to get up, but his strength was gone. He stumbled to one knee.
“I humble myself before you, my lady. You have won my favor by saving my life.”
“I am weary from travel. Everything in MagnaThora looks different, but your cloak and garbs…are you a warrior of the southlands? A follower of the great dragon lord?”
“Yes, I am the dark lord Malinor of GrimmFell, warden of the cove, Dracobra’s chosen exalted.”
“Lord Malinor, it is an honor to be amongst the exalted, I, Zora of Morticomb, forgesmith of the caverns, Dracobra’s disciple, offer you my services in your quests for the god of darkness.”
Malinor bowed to the dragon rider, trying his hardest not to reveal the smirk fighting through the corner of his mouth. This dragon rider confused Malinor without a doubt. The important thing to understand was even though Malinor had no explanation as to who she was or where she came from, he had already figured out that she followed the ancient ways of the dragon kingdom. He used this to his advantage. He could figure the rest out along the way. The dragon tribe was once the most devout of the human races. Malinor knew how to tap into that fanatical kind of worship. This well drew deep.
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“I was separated from my armada by a northern warlock. He used that god awful gem to do his bidding. The power of the north grows tremendously, if we continue to let it go unchecked, they will become a threat even greater than the cascade.”
“That’s not possible.”
“They already wield the treasures of the gods like toys.”
“Where is your armada?”
“Port Caliber.”
Zora looked directly at Malinor upon hearing those last words. Something was not quite right about all of this, about him, that deplorable mask. She decided for the time being to hide her skepticism and fall into the familial role of the loyal subject. It felt good.
“It will take some time. I just came from that way. I will escort you back and do my part to insure our kingdom’s victory over the hostile northerners.”
She bowed and climbed back atop the massive dragon. Malinor struggled to stand back up. His strength was depleted. Even his new companion looked tired. They needed to rest but more importantly he needed to get back. Malinor took a ruby cube from his belt and crushed it. The miniature walls broke with resin that expanded in his hand. Glowing red cracks grew from the black like lava. Malinor blew on the resin and the cracks vented red smoke. He inhaled the vapors and his eyes turned bright red. His fatigue was gone. He bounced from one foot to the other and no longer felt the weight of his gear. His strength had returned, albeit artificially. He approached Zora.
“This is nectopyre vapors. It provides a short burst of energy. I can dose your dragon and fly him so you can get some rest.”
I am familiar with that kind of vapor. It has short term benefits as well as long term side effects. I cannot condone feeding Fathom this narcotic.
That’s what she wanted to say.
Something about his demeanor terrified her. It wasn’t just how quickly she discovered, she could not trust his word. It was almost the exact opposite of her time spent with Mitakahn. He was earnest and approachable, he just confused her with his words. Zora looked at the fiery eyes behind the vanity mask. This was not a man to be trifled with. Was this what her home had become? If she truly was in the future…
“As you wish, my lord.”
She had to choose her steps carefully. Fathom was a strong dragon. He would overcome any negative repercussions of the drug and he would do very well in battle. Malinor gathered the attention of Fathom who waved his long red scaled neck away from the dark lord before being lured in by the scent of the vapor resin. Malinor was a natural dragon whisperer. He held onto Fathom’s jowls intimately as the dragon inhaled the nectopyre vapors. Zora slid back to make room for Malinor who took the reins. Fathom shivered and roared fire into the air. The fire tinted blue and hints of indigo. Zora had not seen such wildness in her dragon’s flame since his adolescent age. He abruptly took flight and Malinor laughed at the thrill of dragon riding. The trio headed north.