The rising, p.18
The Rising, page 18
part #3 of The Onis Chronicles Series
Gothäzer had not moved but for the rise and fall of his chest, his scales shimmering in the evening light through the forcefield. Only his monstrous glare deviated as he peered around at the nuisances surrounding him. No one would see, though, for fear of looking into the monster’s entrancing black eyes—despite the protection of the barrier. Even if they had, his eyes would have appeared almost unmoving to the anxious onlookers in their completely blackened state.
The mighty beast continued to sit with his tail curled, his forefront poised regally, and the tips of his horns nearly touching on the deadly energy field surrounding him. His wings remained slightly spread assertively at his sides while he glared at the puny pests that he had grudgingly promised his father to form an alliance with.
Masonel, though just as irritated by their circumstances, had rested against the hard ground, his foreclaw tucked comfortably under his breast as he watched the assemblage of elves apprehensively.
When the companions emerged through the castle doors after completing their meal, the dragons could feel their United Riders returning even before they could see them, and it unanticipatedly eased their tensions, although just a little. Since the bonding flight, while the Riders had been trying to get their heads around their new powers and abilities from uniting with them, the dragons had also been quite affected themselves. Aside from feeling an increase to his own spirit powers, Gothäzer did not simply grow to tolerate Davion as he had started out to do, but he found himself actually caring greatly for the feeble young creature. He wouldn’t dare openly admit it to him, but he knew that he would willingly give his life for the firemaster should the need arise, and was almost irritated by that realization. Despite his displeasure in it, he did not fight it and was slowly accepting being united with the boy.
Masonel had discovered the same connection with Salyaman following their first transcendent flight together. It was beyond imagination that he would ever find himself caring so selflessly for a member of his sworn enemies—the elves. Yet, as much as he wanted to be irate over the forced bonding with a high elf, he couldn’t. He felt nothing but love and respect for Salyaman and found himself quite relieved that their discord with the elven ruler had turned in their favor.
‘Are you going to be nice?’ Davion asked the Red while they made their way to the courtyard.
Following a mental feeling of annoyance, Gothäzer responded, ‘So long as they give me no reason to be otherwise, then I shall not kill the elven leader—if that is where your concerns lie. Though, you do realize that an opportunity like this—a dragon being up close to the leader of our enemies, to be within range of simply snapping his puny body within our jaws—is something we dragons have dreamt about for a millennium. Of course, this was under the assumption that the elves were the ones that had killed our mother, Onis Caelis. Even so, it is not beyond me that to end this war, we must put aside the hatreds that have been embedded into us over these long years. Perhaps were I a younger dragon, it would be easier to forget. But fear not, I shall “be nice,” young Davion.’
Before they could say any more, the groups had come face-to-face. Korath Volodar stood aside Davion, looking in awe at the magnificent being before him. Salyaman, Laila, and Rath Almon gathered in behind the korath, quietly watching as he admired the magnificence of the Red in its astounding presence.
Rath Beldroth and Saelethil had chosen instead to speak with Beldroth’s wife and queen, Rathelle Saelihn, to update her on their current predicament. They were more than content not to be partaking in the meeting with the dragons.
“Incredible,” Korath Volodar finally exclaimed, a smile wide on his face.
‘How much longer am I to endure being stared at in this manner?’
“Korath Volodar,” Davion said humbly, “could you have them remove the shield so I may introduce you properly? I assure you it is safe.”
The smile dropped from Volodar’s face as he looked at Davion with reservations, then back to the dragon. It was clearly a lot to ask either of them to trust the other given what has not only just happened recently with the fall of Má Lyndor, but also everything that had occurred over the last thousand years since the war began. The korath’s gaze then turned to his people, seeing them all whispering to one another, and he couldn’t help but worry how quickly a blast of fire from the mighty dragon would envelop them all.
“You could not possibly know the extent of what you are asking of me, Firemaster Davion.” Volodar took a few steps forward, looking studiously at the dragon while being sure to avoid looking into his onyx-black eyes. “I cannot claim to understand this ritual that you have performed in the Ruins of Pynar to unite with the dragons, but how can I be sure that they have not been misleading you in order to gain access to our capital? I would imagine it would be Aeris’s ultimate goal to see Thas Duar Moran in ruins as she has so done to Má Lyndor and Ballat Sueda.”
“I can understand and respect your hesitancy, Korath Volodar,” Davion began. “However, since our uniting flight, we do not merely ‘speak’ with the dragons; we are one with them. He no longer simply sends me the words he wishes to share with me, but instead, I sense his thoughts almost as though they were my own at times. So, I can tell you with certainty that these dragons who have agreed to join us are just as ready to see a stop to the war as we are. They also realize that it is not only about the endless killing and hatred anymore. The land of Onis will continue to die around us until we can get the feuding to stop and Laila can begin to cure the spreading plague. It is affecting the ancients just as it affects all inhabitants and the surrounding waters.”
Carefully considering Davion’s words, Volodar took another watchful step forward. He then raised his hands passively at Gothäzer as he spoke loudly in the ancient tongue, “Gheladah Rowouhl!” Mighty Dragon!
The colossal Red shifted his mass within his limited enclosure, watching the korath warily.
Continuing in Ancient, the korath told him, “Let us trust one another so that we may speak of peace between our races!”
After drawing in a heavy breath, Gothäzer let out a rumbling sigh, and he lowered his head to confirm without taking his watchful eyes away from the elf ruler. As a show of good faith, Korath Volodar turned to one of the arcanists and gave him a slight nod, commanding, “Release the dragons!”
The same four casters that had detained them promptly raised their staffs, performing a choreographed dance as before whilst they tempered the forcefield. The energy sparkled brilliantly as it fell like rain from around both the Red and the Gold.
For a moment, all was still as the dragons and elves waited cautiously for the other to make the first move. Not having been at the heart of the feuding, Davion thought they were overreacting and strode confidently out toward his dragon to show the elves he could be trusted. The Red lowered his head passively to meet with Davion, and the human scratched him under his jaw while looking back at the elf ruler.
“Korath Volodar, this is the Mighty Red Gothäzer, prized champion son of the Red Monarch Ignisar.”
Being this close to the colossal Red, Volodar had never felt so intimidated and exhilarated at the same time. “May I approach?” he asked eagerly.
After receiving a mental acceptance from the Red, Davion told him that he may. The korath walked slowly with a tall stride to exude confidence, even though inwardly shaking and terrified. Despite his show of trust in the dragon, Volodar was sure to keep his sight clear from the blackness of his glare as he inspected the mighty beast before him. The patterns and radiance of the dragon’s scales were quite exquisite in the setting evening sun and shimmered as he breathed deeply in and out. When Volodar stretched out a hand to touch the Red, Gothäzer instinctively stiffened and raised his head, clutching his claws into the dirt nervously, and the korath pulled his hand back away.
Davion could sense the distrust radiating from his Red and sent him calming thoughts, assuring him, ‘This is a big moment for the races, Goth. Please have faith.’
Huffing, the dragon forced himself to relax slightly and loosen his grip on the ground beneath.
“It is alright, Korath Volodar. He will allow it,” Davion attested.
Reaching out slowly again, Volodar grazed the tips of his fingers over the dragon’s hard scales and discovered they were quite hot to the touch. He quickly removed his hand again, grasping it with his other.
“Are all dragons this scorching?” he asked Davion.
“Scorching?” he looked at him, confused. Gothäzer never felt hot to him at all.
“It is likely from his fire spirit,” Laila told them. “It made for quite an uncomfortable flight. Contrarily, Turathyl, the Silver who has joined with us, actually feels rather cool.”
“Fascinating,” he exclaimed, continuing to look over the ancient being. Korath Volodar walked down the length of the Red observingly and then back again. “I thought that you were riding the dragons, but I do not see saddles upon their backs.”
“We have not had an opportunity to even consider them yet,” Davion explained.
“I see,” Volodar replied.
Clasping his chin between his thumb and index finger in thought, Volodar continued looking over the dragon curiously. “Well, if you are all off to Othsuda Theora, I am not certain that we could do anything for you that quickly; perhaps only something temporary for Lady Laila’s comfort. While you are gone, we could have proper saddles ready for when we are to head to the Trader’s Post. That is, if you would want them.”
‘So, it appears I truly am to become your mount now,’ Gothäzer scowled with agitation.
Stroking the mighty dragon’s neck, Davion responded to the ancient being, ‘You do not have to wear it, but it could be useful.’
Letting out a low grumble, the Red told him, ‘If you believe a saddle would help secure you to me better, then I suppose I could allow it. Perhaps with its aid, I would not have to be so delicate with you, and we could move more swiftly and freely.’
‘It is not as though it’s forever,’ Davion responded. ‘You will be free of me and the saddle once the war is over with.’
Somehow Gothäzer failed to take comfort in the young human’s words, though he knew he meant them with good intent.
“Thank you for the offer, Korath Volodar,” Davion told him respectfully with a bow. “We would be very grateful for the saddle.”
“As would we,” Salyaman added from aside Masonel.
While the Red and korath were slowly becoming at ease with one another, Salyaman noticed Shakiera had joined them once again, and he went and took her hand lovingly. “Would you like to meet Masonel?” he asked her.
“Are you sure it is safe?” she questioned apprehensively while instinctively placing her free hand over her baby bump.
The elf prince smiled at his beloved wife, then gently led her toward the awaiting Gold. As she neared, Masonel could sense his Rider’s love for this elf, finding it to be a quite interesting sensation. While the Gold did not harbor the same attraction toward her, he couldn’t help but feel an inexplicably significant bond with her nonetheless.
Bringing his head down slowly before the dark-haired arcanist with her violet eyes, Masonel sniffed at her and the bump she was displaying while she stood there frozen solid. Smiling softly at his wife, Salyaman took her hand and placed it upon the Gold’s snout. She immediately began trembling. Within seconds, Shakiera’s nerves got the best of her, and she abruptly retracted her hand, clenching it into a fist against her chest.
“I am sorry,” Salyaman told her earnestly. “It is too much for you so soon.”
Shakiera smiled sheepishly at the dragon, fearing she had insulted the ancient being. “I am pleased that you are on our side, Masonel,” she told him cordially. “I must apologize, but I believe I have overwhelmed myself. Husband?” Shakiera turned to Salyaman, taking his arm, and he nodded to her understandingly as he led her away.
Laila, having been observing at a respectable distance, paced over to them and offered, “I can take her to get some rest if you like while you and Davion remain with the king.”
Salyaman looked considerately back at Shakiera, and she nodded, responding, “That would be fine. Thank you, Lady Laila.”
Davion watched distractedly from afar as Laila offered her arm to Shakiera, assisting her away from the intimidating dragons and towards the crowd.
“Do you think other dragons would allow riders?” Korath Volodar asked the human, redirecting his attention back to him and Gothäzer.
The mighty Red rumbled a low growl as Davion replied, “I’m afraid it isn’t like that, Your Majesty. Without the United Bond, I’m fairly certain it would be unimaginable.”
“And how do we make more United Riders?”
Rejoining Davion and the korath, Salyaman reiterated, “I am sorry to say that the temple and stones for the ritual were completely destroyed.”
“Yes, so you had mentioned.” Volodar stared at the Red before him, deep in thought. “I suppose it is something to revisit should we find ourselves on the other side of this war.” Taking a deep breath, he grinned at Davion. “I shall have my men get to work at once with the plans for the saddles. It will require information from you both on how you ride so they will suit your needs. I imagine it is not exactly like our griffins, but I am sure they can create something acceptable. Now, Salyaman…” The korath began striding toward the Gold dragon, feeling much more confident after having actually touched a mighty Red. “I would like to know more about your powerful Masonel as well as see both of your United Bonds in action!”
* * *
“Here we are,” Shakiera said as they strolled toward the door of a quaint home. It was recessed into the stone with vines festooned over the threshold, exhibiting violet and pink flowers in full bloom. Even the door appeared to be made with the same vines. Laila couldn’t tell how large or small it was with it blending into its natural surroundings and didn’t care to wager after how wrong she had been with the deceptively large Gortaxian homes.
Suddenly, the vine-woven door opened as they neared, and another female elf came out to greet them. The elf resembled Shakiera in many ways, including her violet eyes, but appeared to be considerably older with lighter-colored hair.
“This is my sister, Vaeri,” Shakiera said as they walked inside.
Smiling, Laila exchanged a polite nod with her while following Shakiera closely.
“My sister has been staying with me,” Vaeri explained. “The baby is due to come very soon, and I have been watching over her. I have not had any children myself, so I intend to pamper her and the baby as much as I am able with this war over our heads.”
Regarding Laila as they made their way into a spacious main room with a small kitchen area, Vaeri added, “I understand you are said to be the Great Spirit meant to save us all. So, do you know when it will be over?”
Following a deep breath, Laila replied, “I am afraid not.”
Laila wasn’t sure how much to tell this new and unfamiliar person. Averting her eyes to the ground, Laila couldn’t help but feel she was to blame for what the elves were enduring and all the tragedy that had befallen them. She didn’t care to divulge how everything had been propelled into fast forward because of her confrontation with Aeris. She wondered if Aeris’s plan to not stop until all the two-leggeds were purged from Onis was because the Silver monarch actually felt threatened by the notion that the elf maiden could possibly end the Reign of the Ancients.
Either way, she felt shamefully responsible, so she bit her tongue and walked in silence, trying her best not to bring any more attention her way. It had been a long two days of death and despair and confrontations with irate leaders, and she was just ready for somewhere quiet. It was, in part, why she had been so willing to escort Shakiera away from the center of it all.
“Do you and Davion need somewhere to stay tonight?” Shakiera asked, distracting her thoughts.
“On our way to see the dragons, Korath Volodar said that we could stay in the castle, but I honestly would not feel very comfortable doing so,” Laila admitted.
“Sister, could they stay here as well?” Shakiera asked as Laila helped her to a chair at the table.
Nodding agreeably, Vaeri began making tea while she said, “They may share the room at the back.”
Laila’s eyes became instantly wide, and her jaw dropped slightly, not at all comfortable with the idea of sharing any room with Davion for a night. “I would be happy to take the couch and allow Davion the room,” she quickly offered.
“Dear sister, they are likely still in the courting stage. I cannot imagine when they would have had time to be married,” Shakiera told her.
“Actually,” Laila said mousily, her voice cracking. “Davion and I are not together at all apart from our bond from the prophecy and our friendship.”
“Oh?” Shakiera said, a look of confusion on her face. “I had just assumed that the two of you were together. The last time I saw you, I was under the impression that it was inevitably the next step in your young relationship.” Shifting in her seat to attain some level of comfort with her bulging belly, Shakiera asked bluntly, “So, what went wrong?”
Laila wasn’t sure how to answer her, and she averted her eyes, looking around uneasily. Her question caused flashbacks of the last time they were all together in Má Lyndor and how Davion’s friendship had comforted her, including their times together by the beautiful waterfall.
Shaking her head of the thought, she turned her attention to the sister and blurted out, “Can I help with that?”
