The Knights of Erador (The Echoes Saga: Book 7), page 17
The Drake corrected his posture, his surprise written all over his face. “You speak elvish?”
Asher’s mouth curled into half a smile. “Better than you speak man’s tongue.”
Another Drake entered the hut at that moment, pushing through the leathery flaps that hung to the ground. “Indeed,” the new Drake said, oozing authority and age, “you are full of surprises… for a human.”
The ranger didn’t miss the submissive body language that overcame the Drake seated in front of him. In comparison, the two males were similarly dressed from the waist down; their clothing made from nature itself. Both bared their chiselled torsos, which had been tattooed with intricate patterns. The new Drake, however, was bald, reminiscent of the orc he had once been, and he walked with a staff of entwined branches.
Asher let his eyes drift to the window. “This is Ikirith?”
“This is but a simple dwelling,” the older Drake replied. “Would you like to see Ikirith?”
Asher nodded. “It would be an honour.”
“Then we would know your name,” the older Drake leveraged.
The ranger stood up and the younger Drake rose with him. “My name is Asher,” he said with a slight bow of the head.
The younger Drake turned to his elder with a look of curiosity and concern - at least that’s what Asher took from it; he hadn’t spent nearly enough time with them to learn their unique facial expressions.
“Asher…” the elder repeated, tasting the name in his mouth. “An unusual name among your kind, though it has been heard before among my people - by the elves of Ilythyra. They told us a ranger by that name, an Outlander’s name, was the person responsible for our existence.”
Asher could hear the question in his tone and was too tired to even think about lying. “I am he,” the ranger stated boldly.
“The currents of fate are strong around you,” the elder observed, his eyes searching the air over Asher’s head. “How intriguing that you, of all your kind, would be brought here.”
“You fought the orcs on The White Vale?” the younger Drake blurted.
“I did. We didn’t know the weapon would transform them into… you.”
The older Drake raised a hairless eyebrow. “You thought it would kill them.”
Asher couldn’t say he felt ashamed at that. “We did. The orcs would have ravaged all of Verda given the chance.”
“Of course they would,” the elder agreed. “It is in their nature; something none of us can fight.”
Asher felt the Drake was saying more than the sum of his words but he continued, “The emergence of your race was unexpected, but welcomed. There had been too much death.”
“However indirectly your part was in our creation,” the elder replied, “you have the gratitude of the Drakes, Ranger. You will always find sanctuary in Ikirith…”
“We are not welcomed by all,” the younger Drake grumbled to himself.
“Adan’Karth,” the elder chastised softly. “His tone is unwarranted but he is correct; there are those who do not welcome the Drakes. Adan’Karth was watching the hunters: that is to say, he was watching you watch the hunters. Your intended intervention has our thanks, but we have been evading the men of The Evermoore since we arrived here, fifteen years ago. What concerns us are those that killed them and nearly killed you.”
Asher put two and two together. “Thank you for saving me,” he said, looking from the elder to Adan’Karth. “I would certainly have died had you left me. As for those who attacked me, they are no threat to you; it was me they came for.”
The elder remained stoical. “We are a young race by any comparison, but we possess a wisdom shared only with the dragons of this world. We know the difference between men who can kill and men who were born to kill. Sense tells me, Ranger, that should we continue to stand between these killers and yourself, my people will be threatened…”
Asher made to argue that point but he held his tongue when he realised it was true - nothing would come between the Arakesh and their target.
“With nothing to give you as thanks for my life, I would take my leave and ensure no such threat reaches your home.” The ranger looked around for something to cover his chest when a wave of nausea passed through him and nearly took him from his feet.
Adan’Karth was there to catch him, his hands quick and firm. “You have been healed, but the blood you lost will take time to replenish. You must rest.”
Asher took a deep breath and resumed his stature. “I’m not one for resting.”
“Perhaps a walk instead,” the elder suggested. “Adan’Karth and I can keep you on your feet until you feel the need to rest again.”
In truth, the ranger knew he could fall straight to sleep if he lay down, but the need to always be on the move would never let him rest.
“My name is Abun’Sun,” the elder introduced himself with his hand raised and palm presented expectantly to Asher.
The ranger hesitantly raised his hand and pressed it to Abun’Sun’s. For less than a second, a bridge was formed between man and Drake, a connection that carried their true intent as well as a portion of their personality. Asher saw Abun’Sun for what he was: a father. Or at least that’s how the Drake saw himself among his people. There was a curious nature about him but, more than anything, he was protective and not just of his people, but all life. It was quite the impression for a moment’s touch.
Asher jerked his hand away and examined his palm. “What was that?”
“We call it transference. It allows us to see into each other and know who they are. And you, Ranger, are unlike anyone I have ever met.”
The ranger felt violated, though his only reaction was to shrug the comment off. “Well, you haven’t met a lot of people.”
“There is more than just yourself inside your mind…”
Asher saw flashes of purple eyes in the dark.
“If you saw my intentions,” the ranger began, “you know I don’t want your people to come to any harm. The assassins who tried to kill me will try again. Being in Ikirith won’t deter them, nor will taking innocent lives. I should leave.”
“In your current condition,” Abun’Sun countered, “you would not make it to Lirian. Our borders are watched; any strangers will be shown a different path should they wander too closely. Come now, see our home. Perhaps after surveying your surroundings, you will find rest.”
The latter of Abun’Sun’s remarks had come straight from their brief yet intimate bond. It was certainly expedient, but Asher couldn’t help but feel like his soul had been scrutinised - or what was left of it.
Adan’Karth gestured to the door draped with leathery flaps, suggesting that he would walk behind the ranger. Had Asher not seen inside the elder’s mind, he would have considered the younger Adan’Karth to be his guard but, as it was, the Drakes accompanied him out of support should he need it.
What greeted Asher was a world unlike anything he had ever seen. No more than a glance was required to see that the Drakes were beings in total harmony with the magical realm. Everywhere he looked, there was a Drake using magic to reshape the forest around them, giving the trees new structures that nature could never achieve. The grass was thick under foot and it sparkled in the sunlight, as if infused with diamonds.
These details, however, paled when compared to the view, a sight so incomprehensible that it robbed Asher of speech. The ranger believed he had seen everything the world had to offer, from wonders to nightmares, but Ikirith was unlike anything he could even dream of.
The ground, meadows of lush green, rose up and curved high into the sky, shifting the horizon to the position of a midday sun. Trees equal in size to giant cliffs arched out of the vertical ground and rooted themselves into the ground beneath Asher’s feet. The Drakes appeared to have made homes inside of them, hollowing the bark out with more magic.
The air was filled with every kind of bird and flying insect. The fields were scattered with deer and woodland creatures. It was a paradise.
“How…” Asher had to fight to reclaim his wits as well as his elvish. “How is this possible?”
Abun’Sun wandered into a ray of light with a satisfied smile on his face. “We are part dragon, part elf. Very different beings, but they have one common trait; their affinity with magic.”
Asher had seen the world be physically reshaped by magic, but nothing on this scale. The ground rose up like a tidal wave, reaching higher than any stone-built structure he had ever seen.
“It’s beautiful,” he uttered.
Movement caught the ranger’s eye and he turned to see more Drakes crowding around. Adan’Karth broke away for a moment to touch hands with his kin, transferring his impression of Asher as well as some knowledge. Judging by the way the Drakes proceeded to look at the ranger, he assumed they had just learned of his part in their creation.
“Lady Ellöria showed us a way to create a world inside the world,” Abun’Sun explained. “I believe they call it a pocket dimension. Clever, and extremely elegant,” he added.
“That’s why you aren’t afraid of the hunters,” Asher reasoned. “They can’t find the entrance…”
“Nor do they possess enough magic to force their way through. It keeps us safe and reduces the risk of conflict.”
Asher couldn’t help noticing the crowd growing in size. There were even Drakes journeying towards them from across the curving plains.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“They want to see you,” Abun’Sun told him. “Until now, you have just been a name.”
Asher instinctively began to step back. He had been trained for decades to remain anonymous and he had never been able to rid himself of the habit. Having so many eyes on him made the ranger feel vulnerable, something Abun’Sun immediately detected. The Drake flicked his jaw up and made a guttural sound with his throat - a signal to disperse apparently. Within seconds, Asher was once again in the company of Abun’Sun and Adan’Karth.
Asher fell in beside Abun’Sun and the pair walked farther into Ikirith with Adan’Karth trailing closely behind. The Drakes had nothing else to say for a time, allowing the ranger to take in the unique majesty of their home. Asher could see that they were walking up the curve but, looking back, he had already traversed enough distance to see his hut now appeared higher than his current position.
He wasn’t even close to understanding it.
“You do not enjoy attention,” the elder stated. “That is something you have in common with the Drakes.”
“I feel our reasons are vastly different,” Asher quipped.
Abun’Sun tipped his horned head “The need to remain hidden is a part of who you are; I felt as much. We choose to hide because our outlook does not blend well with the rest of Illian.”
Asher couldn’t disagree with any of it, especially since delving into Abun’Sun’s mind. “Your passive nature would see you crushed,” he surmised. “Man’s world is full of conflict and violence; it’s unavoidable.”
“We are patient,” the elder replied. “We have only walked the earth for fifteen years. We have been led to believe that humans require time to overcome their fears. Our hope, given time, is that our previous forms will be resigned to history.”
Asher had an idea of how long that would take, but he decided against voicing it and spoiling their conversation. There was something so calming about Ikirith that the ranger felt almost protective of it and those who called it home.
“Do you recall anything of your previous life?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t offending Abun’Sun in the process.
The elder stroked the head of a deer as it strolled past, unafraid of them. “Myself no, but there are those among us who speak of… flashes. They see images in their sleep, terrible things that haunt them for days. The life of an orc is tortuous…”
The ranger shook his head in disbelief. He was talking to a being who only possessed fifteen years of memories and experiences, but Abun’Sun spoke and carried himself as if he was hundreds of years old.
Asher paused by a bush with blue leaves and vibrant fuchsia flowers. As a ranger of the wilds, he made it his business to know every type of plant and he was confident he knew them all, but he had never seen one like this. Looking around, there were more flowers and even small trees that he had never seen anywhere in Illian.
“It’s like a different world…” he mused.
“You are the first human to see Ikirith,” Abun’Sun commented, continuing to wander. “I am glad, of all your people, that you are the one to see it. I imagine your own connection to the magical realm gives you a greater appreciation for our work…”
Asher didn’t move, his eyes shifting from Adan’Karth to the elder Drake. “My connection?” he questioned.
Abun’Sun turned to regard him. “The magic that resides within,” he replied, as if that explained his remark. “I have met very few humans, but none of them resonated with the magical realm as you do. I can see it,” he pressed, waving his hand across the ranger’s body. “Your bones hum with magic.”
“It’s like a song,” Adan’Karth added, his dragon eyes searching Asher’s body.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the ranger said, subconsciously looking for somewhere to sit.
“Our connection was brief,” Abun’Sun went on, “but I glimpsed enough to know that your life has been complicated… and long. How many years have you wandered Verda’s soil?”
Had anyone else probed into his life so deeply, Asher would have refused to answer, and not politely. Abun’Sun, however, was not anyone else. They had only just met, but the Drake’s mannerisms, body language, and even his tone of voice made him feel like an old friend and a harmless one at that.
“I was born to an Outlander tribe,” he answered, “over a thousand years ago. The elves were at war with each other at the time. They used magic to end the war and… Well, that’s all the complicated part. I was trapped in their spell for a thousand years.” Asher clamped his jaw shut, his natural reaction when talking about himself, especially this particular story.
“How did you break free?” Abun’Sun enquired.
“I was in possession of a powerful gem.” Asher looked up at the sky. “It came from the heavens a long time ago. It broke the spell around me, setting me free. What followed was less complicated, but a much harder story to tell…” The ranger was ashamed to this day of the decades that ensued, his fate sealed when Nasta Nal-Aket found him on the boggy plains surrounding Elethiah.
“You hurt people,” Abun’Sun said softly.
Asher glanced at Adan’Karth. “Those killers in the woods… I was one of them. For the next four decades I kept that gem in secret - it protected me from magic and allowed me to use it at will.”
The two Drakes met each other’s reptilian eyes and conferred with expressions alone. Had they been humans or perhaps elves, Asher might have guessed their thoughts from analysing their faces and body language, but the Drakes were too subtle.
Abun’Sun walked over to a tree and raised his hand to feel the hanging leaves. “What is the most important thing any living being possesses?” he asked curiously.
Asher considered his answer, believing he knew the correct response, but unsure if the Drake was referring to something closer to a sense of morality. “Blood,” he replied, wondering if that highlighted his time as an assassin.
“Correct,” Abun’Sun said with a smile. “Do you know where your blood comes from?”
Again, Asher had only his Nightfall education to fall back on. “The heart.”
“No.” The Drake shook his horned head. “Blood is made in the bones. Our bones are important; they do more than simply provide us with shape. They give blood… and they absorb magic, clinging to it long after death has eaten away at the body. For all that you have lost in your long life, your bones have survived, the same bones that were trapped with a powerful source of magic for a thousand years.”
Asher shrugged off the dizziness building in his head and examined his hands as if he could see the bones within. “You’re saying that I’m… immortal?”
Abun’Sun tilted his head and scrutinised the ranger. “No. You no longer possess the gem; all that is left is the magic you were able to absorb in that time. It might be decades from now, centuries even, but the magic will fade and your body will continue to age.”
Asher couldn’t ignore the warnings his body was giving him anymore. “I need to sit down,” he said in man’s tongue, reaching out for support that wasn’t there.
Adan’Karth’s superior reflexes had him catching the ranger before he hit the ground. “You cannot escape rest,” he said. “You’ve lost too much blood.”
Sitting with his back to a tree, Asher let his head drop between his knees in an effort to stay conscious. Abun’Sun’s words were swimming around in his mind, searching for purchase so that he might understand. For all his training, however, there was nothing to be done to combat blood loss. The edges of his vision blurred before disappearing altogether. He was getting really sick of passing out…
15
A Storm is Coming
As Doran’s hot breath faded before him, the rising city of Namdhor appeared through the vapour. Set into a cliff that angled forty-five degrees from the ground and rose at its peak to just under a thousand feet, the capital of Illian was naturally fortified. Its foundation was that of solid rock, a damned good rock if the northern pillar was anything to judge by. That one column of rock held up the slope, preventing it from falling into The King’s Lake.
This was how Doran’s dwarven eye took in the view. Perhaps he should have appreciated the way Namdhor looked in the morning, its ancient towers and buildings a warm gold in the rising dawn. He could even have noted the majesty of the lake, the largest in Illian, and full of fishing boats taking advantage of the thawed ice.
The son of Dorain, however, couldn’t help but look at the world the way the Mother and Father had made him to. He saw good stone and sturdy architecture. The likes of boats or anything to do with the lake was beyond his interest.
