Chapter Twenty-Four: In the House of a Dragon

“When the Ember was taken from the dragons, they lost the ability to hold their forms. They became a mere shadow of the proud beasts they once were, cursed to walk the earth forever dreaming of that which was no more.”

—Ylva Norn, The Encyclopaedia of Daemons

“You fools,” Talberon said, as they all gathered around the cramped dining room at the back of Drakhorn’s store. “It could have been the Faceless. You should have waited and asked more questions to confirm their identities.”

His words fell on deaf ears as the three childhood friends chattered excitedly amongst themselves. They’d embraced at first, Ein and Bran shocked speechless at Evaine’s appearance, and then the relieved scolding and half-hearted arguments had broken out, and finally they’d settled down and were simply filling each other in on their respective journeys. With Evaine here, Ein felt complete again. Never mind the fever he’d been struck with, the nightmarish visions he’d experienced. Never mind the shadow of doubt in Evaine’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. Never mind the way Bran trembled when they mentioned the relicts. They were alive. He, Bran and Evaine had made it out of the Sleeping Twins to Caerlon, alive and well.

Ein caught his father’s eye. Alend tried to maintain a disapproving frown, but his relief and the smile playing about his lips were plain for all to see.

“How did you find us?” Bran asked.

“Well,” said Garax, “it actually wasn’t that hard. All it took was a few drinks in the right taverns. It’s not every day that a barefoot girl and a ragged boy walk into town dragging a half-dead person on a sled behind them. I guessed who you were soon enough.”

“But how did you know we were here of all places?” Ein questioned.

Garax looked sideways at Drakhorn. “I had some dealings with Master Drakhorn before in the past.” The tailor gave a disapproving frown but said nothing. “From the way they described Ein’s delirium I guessed it was either Soulsickness or a severe fever. There aren’t many healers I know who can reliably cure either, and considering the street they were taking you down and the condition you were in, I guessed where you were right away.”

“You seem to know a lot of people, storyteller.” Talberon remained distrustful, looking back and forth between Garax, Rhinne and Drakhorn. “First, I’m to believe you knew the World-Eater and Ylva Norn herself. Now you’re saying you’re acquainted with the dragons? Just what are you, Garax?”

“Dragons?” Evaine exclaimed, looking around the room. “Where?”

“We all hold secrets, druid, as you well know.” Garax gave Talberon a meaningful look. “But rest easy. Neither I nor Master Drakhorn and young Rhinne mean you harm. We all seek the same thing in the end—to preserve our beautiful world and put an end to the Oathbreaker’s madness. Believe me, if we meant you harm you would know it already.”

“Would anyone mind telling me what’s going on?” Evaine asked again. She shot an accusatory glare at Ein and Bran, who both shrugged and shook their heads.

“I suppose we’d better get this sorted,” Alend finally said, waving at the table. “Talberon, I’ve known Garax for as long as I’ve known my son. He might have his secrets, but I trust him to reveal them in his own time, just like I trust you to a certain degree despite how secretive your order is.”

“You’re too trusting,” Talberon said, though he eased back slightly. “That’s why you were betrayed by King Aedon. That’s why you were stabbed at the village by a man you thought to be a friend, with your own blade too.”

Everyone but Bran looked away.

“Anyway, I suppose we’d better sort this mess out. I expect your son and his friends will be adamant in joining us.”

They took up a front of civility once more, Rhinne and Drakhorn cautiously taking a seat on the far end to Talberon. Evaine sat down between Ein and Bran and began shovelling food into her mouth like a starved animal. Introductions were made, albeit with reluctance.

“Rhinne,” Drakhorn murmured. “I think you can trust the humans. After all, Garax is with them.”

Rhinne maintained her scowl.

“They’re your best bet of reaching Aldoran,” the tailor continued. “There’s safety in numbers, and as much as you hate the druid, he’s probably the most capable of all of us here in the event that things go wrong.”

“Rhinne,” said Evaine. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal with the dragons? I thought they were supposed to be giant lizards of fire and fang.”

“We were.” Rhinne set her jaw into a hard line. “Long ago, we were. Back when we had the Ember. Then, mankind stole it.” She glared at Talberon. “And the druids helped them.”

“I would apologize to you if I could,” Talberon said coolly, “but the sins of my predecessors are not mine to shoulder. I will do what I can to help you, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our current mission.”

“So you’re a dragon?” Evaine asked, eyes gleaming. “An actual dragon?”

“I am,” she said curtly. “And so is Lord Drakhorn. He was one of our best healers long ago, which would have been over several hundred years by now. Shortly before I was born, he decided to move here to Caerlon. That was the worst decision he’s ever made, in my opinion.”

“Never.” Drakhorn shook his head firmly. “Not once have I regretted my decision. When you truly love someone, Rhinne, you will understand.”

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“You fell in love with a human, Drakhorn. A human.”

“So what? We share the same bodies, Rhinne. We look the same. He was the same as you and me, inside.” A forlorn look clouded over his face. “Humans burn bright, but their lives are so short. Fate is truly cruel.”

“If you insist, Drakhorn. All I see is the shadow of a great and proud dragon, reduced to the owner of a petty store because of one man.”

“It was always his wish to become a tailor. I’m simply fulfilling it in his place.” He cleared his throat and gazed at Talberon and the Felhaveners. “I apologize for the confusion. I once lived with the rest of my people, far away across the mountains, but through some unforeseen circumstances I ended up living here. I still make journeys back home every few years, and occasionally some of my people stop by my store to visit when they venture out of the village. I know Rhinne from one of my trips home, though the last time I saw her, she was but a hatchling.”

“I see,” nodded Alend. “Excuse my question, but if you’re really dragons, can’t you just… fly to Aldoran?”

“Like I said,” Rhinne said bitterly, “all our power came from the Ember. When the humans stole it in the Second Age, we lost the ability to maintain our true forms and were reduced to these weak bodies. Now that the relicts threaten to overwhelm the world once more, we simply cannot do without that power. We need the First Flame again, to fight back and defend the world in which we live, and I’m sure the High King knows where to find it.”

“If the King knew of some magical stone that could save the world, I’m fairly certain he would have used it already,” Talberon said.

Rhinne shrugged. “I’ll be the judge of that. Who knows, maybe someone from your order knows where it is.”

“I assure you, if I had knowledge of such an artifact the Great Winter would be over already.” Talberon sighed. “But I will check, just to be sure.”

“See to it that you do. I’ll be travelling to Aldoran either way, to make our presence known.”

“Very well.” Talberon sighed and turned back to Ein, Bran and Evaine. “Now that that’s sorted, there are some questions I need to ask you three. You said you were pursued by an Urudain?”

Bran swallowed, while Ein remained quiet.

“That’s right,” Evaine said. “The blasted creature almost killed us.”

Talberon looked to Alend, who had suddenly grown pale. “How do you know it was one of them and not a relict?” he asked Evaine. “Can you describe what you saw?”

“It had a cloak of shimmering grey,” Evaine answered, “and a pitch-dark mask resembling a crescent moon with a single eyehole. It was long and thin, almost spectral.” She stroked her chin thoughtfully. “It also had a whip made of shadows. I can’t remember how long it was, but one flick of it destroyed half the caravan and sent it flying off the side of the cliff. Do you remember anything else, Ein? Bran?”

“The horse,” Bran said with a tremor in his voice. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It had blood-red eyes and fangs, and spines running down its legs. It was like a… a demon.”

“The trouper called it Angramar,” Ein said. “First of the seven,”

“Damnation,” Talberon muttered. He pointed to Ein. “You, son of Alend. Did your sister give you anything before you left? A wooden charm of sorts?”

Ein felt all eyes turn on him and shook his head. “She did, but I… I threw it away.”

“I see.” Talberon eyed Alend. “You’re sure this boy doesn’t share your blood?”

“As sure as the sky is grey,” the blacksmith replied.

“Then it must be coincidence. The only person the Oathbreaker should have business with all the way out here is you.”

“E-excuse me, Master Alend,” Bran said. “If you don’t mind me asking… why are you on a journey to Aldoran? Ein said it was for a business trip, but… I don’t believe it.”

Evaine nodded. “Neither do I.”

They frowned at Ein, who turned away. Rhinne folded her arms. “I think I’d like to know too,” she said, “what business the Oathbreaker’s generals have with you. I’ve told you my story and it’s only fair that I hear yours. The last thing I want is to be killed by an Urudain without even knowing why.”

“Should I tell them?” Alend asked.

Talberon heaved a sigh.

“Might as well,” he said. “Listen carefully, everyone. I will not repeat myself. Alend is the last of the Thorens, a line of kings that traces back to Aedrasil herself. The Ward Tree weakens at the Worldspring in Aldoran, and has requested the blood of each of her three descendent families to cure her. The Thorens are one of them, along with the Uldans and the Lachesses. Hopefully with their blood, Aedrasil can do whatever she needs to do to make a full recovery and seal shut the portals of Nephilheim.”

“Aren’t those the three families involved in the Rondo of the Three Kings?” Evaine asked. She looked at Ein. “Wait a moment… doesn’t that mean you’re descended from a line of kings?”

“Alend isn’t my real father.”

Evaine’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Why didn’t you tell—”

“I’ll tell you later, Evaine. We need to sort out what’s happening next.”

Evaine fell silent, but she continued to throw cursory glances between the father and son.

“This puts things into an interesting perspective,” Drakhorn remarked. “Perhaps it wasn’t mere coincidence that you stumbled into these people, Rhinne. It seems that their quest intertwines with your own.”

“Perhaps.” Rhinne didn’t say anything more.

“I take it none of you are having second thoughts, then?” Talberon asked. Evaine had fallen silent, struggling to wrap her head around everything that had been explained. Bran was staring into space, fists hardened in resolve. Ein kept his head down while Alend watched, arms folded.

Then, Garax began to chuckle.

At once, all heads in the room turned to him. The storyteller had a habit of fading into the background when people weren’t paying him notice, and he’d made full use of it. Leaning back, his chuckle turned into a throaty guffaw as he slapped his palm against his knee, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe my luck,” he said, smiling widely. “To think that these old bones will venture forth on one last quest, and possibly the greatest to pass. A quest to Aldoran and the Worldspring to save our dying Protector, along with a Kingsblade and a dragon of old. A quest fighting relicts and Faceless and Urudain, rising against the Forsaken One himself. Our tale will be told for ages to come.”

“People have died because of this,” Talberon scowled. “Remember the poor travelling troupe? The world is at stake here, storyteller. This isn’t some game.”

“It’s not a game,” Garax agreed. “It’s a legend, and what a damn fine one it’s turning out to be.”

Lord Drakhorn stood up and clapped his hands. “I think now would be a good time to turn in for the night,” he said, before the two old men could break into further argument. “I don’t have many rooms, but we can split up bedrolls across the store and the dining room floor tonight. A lot of things have happened today, and I daresay we all need some time to absorb it all.”

There was a round of nods as everyone packed their belongings and began to move about, setting up their resting areas. As they filtered out one by one, Ein remained behind with Bran and Evaine. Although Evaine looked tired and seemed to be fighting to keep her eyes open, she tugged on Ein’s arm with the excitement of a young child.

“I guess we’ll sleep here tonight,” he said. “We have a lot to talk about.”