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Chapter 39
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Cantrell had wanted to go home to get some sleep. He thought it unwise to try doing anything magically strenuous as tired as he was right now. Lothinar, Ardwynn, and the other dragons had returned to Dellora-Natine to inform Ardwella that the reports of Mo-Rung’s death had been, as they say, greatly exaggerated. The big red dragon had accompanied Cantrell as far as the nest of his mate Aleena. He had a fresh arrow-shot deer clamped in his jaws as he stomped his way down toward the shore of the lake.
”This deer is for Aleena." said Mo-Rung. It will give her magical strength. These humans have allowed me to survive and thrive on land. I would never have been a successful hunter or been able to feed myself without them. As the one in charge of limiting their deer hunting activities, you have been one of the largest hindrances to my progress “
”The irony of that is not lost on me.” said the warden. “Some parts of my job description only really make sense with the possibility of a dragon such as you escaping from the water in mind. I’m surprised that the emperor allowed men to keep living in the local town and didn’t drive them away from the area.”
”You do realize that Delora Natine was here long before the elven outpost?”
”I suppose that makes sense,” said Cantrell.
“The men that hunt for me have told me on multiple occasions that we are In what was originally shared dragon and human territory. Elves are the interlopers here.”
‘Cantrell tried to remember if he had seen any maps of the territory from before the war. His memory was drawing a blank. Perhaps subjugating the dragons had been enough for the emperor. Risking and enduring a full-scale conflict with the humans by driving them off their own land might have been more than the empire had wanted to tackle at the time.
With his egg supply shut down there wasn’t much of a chance that the Emperor was going to delegate his dragon problems any longer. The humans seemed a loosely associated bunch. He wondered if an attack on Delora would have large scale repercussions in other parts of the empire. He hoped that the humans were more organized than they appeared to be.
Aleena had immediately started her deer feast, so Cantrell had walked. He chuckled to himself how quickly he had become accustomed to water taxi service as he finally trudged up to the door. Without any conscious thought, he suddenly realized that he had not gone to his own place but back to Mavis's house. She was making breakfast. She was wearing the cutest little apron and absolutely nothing else. A brisk morning walk can surely make you hungry.
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Argent awoke screaming as usual. His mind was buzzing from the events of yesterday. He had become overly obsessed with Dewey’s deceptions and briefly allowed Siophra and Vanador to slip his mind. Somehow, she had overheard him admitting that the dragon-killing spell was missing. Without the threat of her dragon being incinerated, she had taken the opportunity to escape. He had tried to hit them with multiple lightning bolts, but somehow, they had dodged them.
That dragon by his birthright should have been his! Lothinex 's granddaughter had protected the dragon from his incineration spell, and as long as she remained alive, he couldn’t burn the dragon. It was as if it existed in a place outside of time and was impervious to any injury. Siophra had been at his mercy, but the dragon’s magic had preserved her life despite his best attempts to kill her.
He would never forget the day he had decapitated her, only to watch in horror and amazement as her body rejoined her head and fused back together. She was unkillable. Fortunately, a dragon could only send such powerful energy to a bonded elf while in hibernation, or he would have never won the first war.
He had tried to break her mind and spirit as well, but nothing seemed to work to sever her bond with Vanador. After their escape, several more elves at the library were dead, and he was never going to find those fire scrolls. With all he had going on no one could possibly expect him to keep track of everything.
The eggs helped. At least, they seemed to. Not only did they give access to a lot of restored power, which made throwing lightning bolts a breeze, but they also helped keep the dark thoughts away. Quickly he pulled yet another from his dwindling supply and picked away at the thick shell. He had always preferred his dragon eggs hard-boiled. He consumed the egg quickly. He needed access to more very soon. Now, though, Tempton, Quinton, and Ulaire were missing and presumed dead. These losses could not go unanswered. The supply of eggs must not be stopped. His life and sanity depended on it. He could already feel the effects of trying to ration and cut back on his egg consumption.
The thoughts rose, like a behemoth from the deep places, huge and impossible to ignore A monster, having slept its fill in a dark and distant lair, now surfacing, The force of it’s movement casting waves upon the beaches of his mind. It filled the tranquil bay of his ruminations like a mountain. It was a Leviathan suddenly thrust up from the bottom of the sea. The great eye, black and cold, stared unrelenting as it pierced through his sunny day and drove a blade of ice deep within his heart.
Argent shivered in the sudden gloom. The memories of all the good things that had happened in his life slipped from his grasp and faded into a distant memory. A story he had once told to his daughter before bedtime now became the onset of a nightmare. One from which there would be no awakening.
His mind was a vast sea. At the water's edge, the ripples of memory gently ended their lives, tumbling the tiny grains of sand before flowing silently back into the black depths. They deceive those ripples. They seemed violent and strong. The current was calling his name. His hands covered his ears, but he could not shut out the sound or the afterechoes of such power. The power of thousands of dead baby dragons. He thought that power like this could not be silenced by the means available to mere mortals. Like a tuning fork, his entire soul began to hum and then form the words of a dark song. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. The words to the song came unbidden, filling his mind.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
The vibration reverberates and brings dark dreams – squandered, youth and aspiration lies broken and shattered upon the floor
Years have drained away like the water through the sand and they ever return to the relentless sea, always waiting in the dark.
The cold current always calling.
Time and biology conspire to end the hopes of the eternal soul that lives within the frail and broken bodies we wear on this earth
Each flawed and failing in its own time
We all must face our turn at the well of the spirit, looking deep within at the icy water.
We must drink of it to live, but each sip further quenches the flame of our youth and steals
another day from the storehouse we so carefully have guarded. All too soon, the shelves are bare.
Wire racks standing in an empty room under the harsh artificial light. The glare burns our eyes
Yes, we are mortal, and though we rise up like the tender shoot in the morning,
our slender roots do not find their way through the hostile stony soil. The flesh is weak, and the ground is hard.
The living water lies far too deep below.
The morning dew does fall on us in the end. It has insufficient moisture to sustain our immortal thoughts' hopes and dreams. Eventually, the disappointed soil that craves our decomposition must be satisfied.
We must, at last, face the end of ourselves and hope that somehow we can let go without screaming.
As usual, Argent awoke screaming. The white dragon had left, but he had a pretty good idea of where he would find it.
"Call my Generals. We are marching at dawn!" Argent yelled.
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Starett was in his office trying to make sense of the current budget. Feeding dragons was expensive. He was glad that the wardens led by Cantrell had relaxed the restriction on taking deer from the local forest. He was beginning to think Farmer McDonald had been overcharging him somehow. Other local suppliers seemed much more reasonable in the price of cattle. The elves needed a lot of fresh fruits and vegetables too. He never thought that he would have had to deal with so much so soon when he had apprenticed to the temple. Duty is its own reward, he thought to himself. Someone knocked on the door. One of the messengers poked his head in and handed him a letter. It had gold trim on the envelope. It was from the Capitol in Savintra. He opened it with shaking hands. He began to read.
From the Court of His Majesty,
It has come to our attention that the Great Dragon in your temple has finally reawakened. We have hoped and prayed for this. We have begun a pilgrimage to your temple and will arrive within the month. Please provide accommodations for the duration. Our party will consist of approximately three hundred souls.
King Enderline
"Womber!" We are going to need to get started on some extra rooms!"
Maybe he could get some of the elves to move back home...
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Siophra saw the house from the air. Not much had changed with the house itself in the hundreds of years since she had been here, although someone had added a large barn out back.
"That barn is new. It will be a convenient place to hide you." She told Vanador.
The house of her Grandfather Lothinex had once stood alone in these woods, but now Siophra could see that there were other homes and structures that had been built nearby in the same area. She was currently flying over one on her approach that had a large clothesline. Colored skirts and blouses waved in the breeze.
"Looks like we have found some clothes," Said Vanador, smirking. "And you were worried"
After landing, Siophra checked the doors and found her Grandfather's house was tightly locked. She patted herself all over.
"I think I have the key on me somewhere." Then she giggled.
Vanador was beginning to think a few clothes would substantially ease his bond's transition back to sanity.
The barn door was open. It was nice and clean inside. The naked blonde elf looked around nervously.
"Wait inside there, said Vanador. I'll be right back!"
Siophra scurried inside, obviously embarrassed about possibly being caught in the nude. Vanador didn't understand Siophra's reluctance to nudity, but he was a team player. He began stealthily sneaking toward the neighbor's clothesline. He hoped that the clothes he was going to borrow from the clothesline would fit Siophra.
He had just grabbed a couple of pairs of everything when he heard a shriek. A pretty young elf was looking at him out the side door of her home.
"Cantrell! There is a big white dragon stealing some of my clothes!" she yelled.
Another elf appeared and stared in surprise. He was surprisingly fast for an older gentleman, and the next thing Vanador knew, he was right up in his business. Vanador dropped the clothes.
Mavis rolled her eyes at that. "Don't get them dirty. I just washed them. Everyone always wants to borrow my clothes. They are the latest fashions. Sure, go ahead and take what you need. It's ok, as long as I get them back.”
"Thank you both. It's an emergency. I was hoping to borrow these for a friend." He scooped up his prizes again and started to make a fast retreat. The clothes flapped in his teeth. Then he had a thought.
"Hey! Do you know an elf named Ardwella? She used to live around here," he asked.
The elf that had to be named Cantrell began nodding his head. He had a strange look on his face. He looked the dragon up and down, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes, I know Ardwella. Her husband and son too. If I'm not mistaken, your name is Vanador, isn't it?" he finally asked.
Vanador eyed him suspiciously.
"I've never heard of him" said the dragon.
These clothes you want to borrow. Could they be for Ardwella's sister Siophra? Cantrell asked suspiciously.
"Siophra... Hmmm. That's a name you don't hear every day," said the dragon.
Ardwella is really going to want to see her. Siophra's been gone a long time.
Vanador figured out that the jig was up. His deception had been discovered.
"Yeah, that's us," he admitted.
Mavis took a second look. Then she shook her head.
Then she surprised everyone.
"That can't be Vanador, Cantrell."
"Why not? It certainly must be!" he said.
"Vanador is the name of a dragon statue with bird poop all over it at the top of Daddy's office building back in the capitol."
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