Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (27 page)

The armored man looked about the chamber and pitched his voice to carry to all those assembled. “The war goes badly. Despite your claim, our people grieve for their dead. Our children disappear, taken by these demons, never to be seen again.” His eyes hardened and he stated, “We must have aid.”

There was no movement, but the shadows conspired to give the impression that the entire assemblage moved in a bit closer. Rai’kesh looked at the man in armor, then hissed, “Thou presume much, coming before us.”

“I would dare even you, if it means victory.”

The great dragon leaned in, his head level with the armored general. “The Aeris cannot be eradicated. Created by thee and thy people, they are the stuff of dreams, halfling. Thy war is pointless.”

If the man understood, Silbane did not see any indication of it. Instead, he stamped his foot and an explosion of white power flashed out, cracking the basin upon which he stood and pushing the great dragon king back with a promise of violence. “I will not suffer lies from the likes of you!”

Rai’kesh treated the man’s outburst like the misbehavior of a child and did not react except to exhale a blast of smoldering air. Then, he growled, “The blind worry at each step. Mayhap it is Sight thou art lacking.”

The general’s eyes narrowed and a few moments went by in silence. Then he simply asked, “Sight?”

“Thou shalt
See
the true nature of things. Perhaps only then wilt thou understand war is not thy people’s destiny. Peace may yet be achieved. With the gift of Sight, thou wilt come to understand the Aeris and depart this path of recklessness.”

The man looked slowly around the basin as if understanding that the dragons meant to change him in some fundamental way. Then he knelt and said, “I accept.”

“Not all survive the giving.”

“Do not concern yourself with my survival.” He looked up and power flashed in his pale eyes. “If I die, this ends here and now.”

There was a pause, as if the very air went still with anticipation, then Silbane saw yellow power erupt from above, spearing the knight in its fire. It burned bright, utterly consuming the man in armor. He thought he heard a scream, then nothing.

The fire slowly subsided. As it withered and died, the armored man knelt where he had been, the ground around him burned and molten, steam escaping in hisses from its charred surface, melted smooth from the heat.

He looked dead, but then his armor glinted, a small sign of movement from the man within. Silbane thought he heard a sigh of disappointment from the gathered dragons, as if they had hoped to end his petition just as the man had said, with his death. That was not to be. The man was still alive and about to become more powerful than Silbane could imagine.

He rose, his form still smoking, and his eyes opened. Silbane could see them flash yellow, infused with the power granted by this Conclave of Dragons. The general looked about, as if seeing things for the first time.

“I had never dreamed—” he began.

“The Aeris are
necessary,”
Rai’kesh interrupted. “Look upon them with mercy and thou wilt See that there are better answers than war.”

He continued to stare about him, as if drinking in every detail, then his head shook. He took a step back, flanked by the dwarven guards, and said, “These creatures, if they are as you say, cannot be killed, and we are dead as a race!”

Rai’kesh looked again at the man to whom they had entrusted with their gift and said, “Neither can they eradicate those who create them, for it will be their undoing as well. Thou canst petition for peace, because neither can survive without the other. Valarius, wilt thou desist in thy path?”

The man in armor, who Silbane suddenly realized could only be General Valarius Galadine, shook his head. “You would see us enslaved?”

“How canst thou be a slave to thine own shadow?” Rai’kesh responded, tilting his head quizzically. “Thou art thinking within the frame of a single lifetime. Much hath happened since Sovereign’s Fall, yet the parting of thee and thine from the Aeris was never intended. Seek peace and unification, and all will be as it was meant to be.”

The great dragon paused, then said, “Forbear.” The chamber echoed with his final admonishment.

The general’s eyes grew hard as he looked at the assembled dragons and said, “Patience is for the weak, and we are all granted but a single life.” He turned and walked away from the basin, but looked back as he neared its edge. “If your children had been taken, would you stand by so idly?” His eyes flashed again with power, as if daring any of the Conclave to act.

When nothing happened, he gave a hesitant bow. It was a strange sign of respect, thought Silbane, given the tone of the exchange. He then turned away from the Conclave and back into the tunnels. Moments passed in silence.

Then the dragon-king said, “Rai’stahn.”

The air congealed where the archmage had just stood, a black smoke taking on the kneeling form of the armored dragon-knight Silbane knew. “My lord?”

“He presumes much, doth he not?”

Rai’stahn turned a yellow-golden gaze in the direction of the retreating form and replied, “We should kill him. At least then Azrael wouldst stand free.”

Silbane thought he saw Rai’kesh smile at that, though it could have been a trick of the light. The elder dragon looked around at the Conclave and a silent communion was held.

When it was finished, he addressed the younger dragon-knight again. “Perhaps the Sight granted will yet lend him perspective. He should understand what he wishes to destroy. Mayhap it will give him pause.”

Rai’kesh moved closer and put an armored hand on the kneeling dragon’s shoulder. “Thou wilt take a force of knights. Attend the battle, but do not help these halfmen. Thou shalt protect the land should Valarius fail to See the path opened for him.”

Rai’stahn nodded and asked, “Dost thou still believe he can bring
unity
?”

“If he lives, perhaps. If he dies, it will be as thee says. Azrael will walk again amongst us. Either outcome favors a beneficent end.” Rai’kesh paused, then added, “There will come a moment. Thou wilt know when. Act as we hath been ordered, for the good of this land.”

Then the vision faded from his mind like smoke...

* * * * *

Silbane clutched his head, pain pounding inside his skull, his eyes shut. When he opened them, he realized he had fallen to his knees, the swirl of sand and dust gone. Above him, the dusk sky shone orange and gold with a serenity out of place with the import of the visions he had just Seen.

He noticed the sand in front of him, spotted with dark, wet blobs. He reached out a cautious finger and realized it was his own blood, dripping from his nose and ears. A sharp pain in his forehead and a quick inspection with his fingertips revealed something that felt like a small scar where the dragon’s claws had touched him, burned in by the searing light of the vision. He quickly rose, wiping his face and looking for the dragon-knight.

As the master rose the dragon-knight grunted, as if acknowledging his strength, and said, “Thou shalt feel the gift come upon you, but slowly. Stand steady.”

Silbane shook his head to clear it, still throbbing from the intensity of thought and power. Never in all his previous dealings with dragons had he felt such might. He looked at Rai’stahn and though there were other more critical concerns such as Arek and his mission, he asked the one question burning in his mind, “Who is Azrael?”

Rai’stahn watched the mage, his eyes calculating, then he offered, “Why dost thou ask what thine heart already knows. It is for this reason and this reason alone that thou art granted dispensation. Thou hast heard the name before, Magus.”

Azrael? The name could be a coincidence. Silbane licked his lips and then asked, “He opposed Lilyth?”

The dragon shrugged. “Nothing so simple as that. He chose a different path and disappeared in the Ascension. Now we wait for his bonded brother to recognize his own true worth.”

Silbane swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Too much was happening and he needed time to digest it. He closed his eyes, willing the turmoil to end, then took a deep breath, thinking.

Clearly the dragons in the vision thought Azrael and Valarius connected somehow, an impossibility he did not want to pursue just yet, the implications to his own soul too deep to consider.

“The armored man was General Valarius Galadine?” asked Silbane.

The dragon nodded.

“What did he See?”

“If thou wert stronger in the Way, the gift of Sight wouldst already be upon thee. Until then, it suffices to say Valarius wasted his gift and instead created an abomination.”

Silbane shook his head. “He petitioned the dragons for aid? He fought
against
Lilyth?”

“Be not foolish, Magus. Shall we recite the entire vision again?” The dragon-knight looked at Silbane a moment longer, then pointed a finger and whispered, “Thou bring desecration and ruin to the Way of this world.”

At first, he thought the dragon had been passing judgment on him. Now he knew that despite the dragon’s demeanor, he was not the one in immediate danger. Silbane looked with growing dread to where Rai’stahn pointed, his talon stabbing directly at his apprentice. He hesitated, afraid to ask the next question, but knowing he must. “What does Arek have to do with this?”

“Thou hath seen the Vision. How wouldst the Aeris be destroyed?”

Silbane shook his head and admitted, “I don’t know.”

“What hath Valarius been told? The Aeris are Shaped by thee. They are the Way.”

“But the gods—” Silbane started.

Rai’stahn held up his hand and closed his eyes. “Think. Use thy training. What is the danger of thy kind believing in a single, all-powerful being in a world where dreams live, a world filled with Aeris Lords and Celestials such as Lilyth and Azrael?”

A part of Silbane fought for more information. “You said Valarius created an abomination?”

“So much more,” the dragon said. “He was an Archmage of the Way. Think of the Conclave and our forbearance. Only his power forced our consideration. He created something even he could not understand.”

“What?”

“The death of all of us.” Rai’stahn’s taloned finger had never wavered from the direction of the tower and Arek. “Look, with thine newfound Sight. Though the gift is still weak, mayhap thou wilt see what the Conclave sees with thine own eyes.”

Silbane turned his attention in the direction of the dragon’s gaze, drinking in the golden dunes lit orange by the setting sun. Above, the sky painted itself an almost perfect blue, the beauty and peace of this land in such contrast to the dire conversation taking place between them. What did Rai’stahn want him to see?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, cleansing his mind and opening himself to the Way. At first, nothing happened different than any other time he centered himself. His body relaxed and time slowed, yet something urged him to continue, and he stood there, staring into a sea of blackness swimming before his closed eyes.

Then, from that sea, points of yellow light appeared. They were like infinitesimally small particles of dust, eddying and flowing in some unseen current. The current took on form and substance, and a landscape took shape: the dunes, the hills, even the tower! It all stood glittering, each particle adhering to everything, painting him a monochromatic picture of the world in front of him in a sparkling shimmer. Though his eyes remained closed, Silbane could see!

He began to narrow his focus, for near the tower something caught his attention. It was an area of blackness, of
wrongness.
It sucked in the particles, pulling them into itself. What was that? Was it the tower doing this, or something else?

Before he could determine what he was seeing, the vision of particles faded from view, then disappeared altogether. A sudden wave of lethargy overcame him and he stumbled, only to be steadied by Rai’stahn’s armored hand.

“Sight is taxing to the new.”

He cautiously opened his eyes, blinking as if waking from a dream. “What is it?” he asked, dumbfounded by what he saw.

The expression on the dragon’s face was inscrutable, but his tone was clear. “Thy mettle is tested true. It is the Way in its purest form and thou hath been given the gift to see it. Thou must keep thine own counsel, but I offer thee this: Thou witnessed the blackness? It is a blight upon the land. Should it be allowed to grow, the Way will die.”

Silbane drew a breath, feeling his energy replenish itself. A part of him realized he was breathing in the Way, its power suffusing him, and he marveled again at the insight this vision provided. He looked at Rai’stahn and said, “I saw it but did not see its source. Perhaps the tower—”

“T’was not the Far’anthi, but the abomination birthed by Valarius. Fate offered him the cruelest of hands, dealt by the Conclave, played by me. Now the world hangs in the balance.”

Silbane looked at the dragon, his mind skipping past the absurd suggestion that now Arek was somehow tied to Valarius and said, “What did you do?”

Rai’stahn looked at the mage, then looked away to the west. He took a deep breath, then said, “Valarius hath been a brilliant commander and tactician.” The great dragon turned his massive head and met Silbane’s stare. “Yet he lived for war and ignored his gift of Sight. The land needed peace. I delivered it.”

Silbane missed the implication of the dragon’s last statement, blurting, “You show me a vision of Valarius beseeching the dragons for aid, then condemn him in the same breath?”

“Victors write histories, Magus. I acted, and thought Edyn saved.”

Suddenly, Silbane understood what the dragon was trying to say. Rai’stahn would act to save this world from any whom he perceived would bring it harm. This included Arek, just as it had Valarius. Only the alliance between the lore father and their presence on the Isle had stayed the great dragon’s hand this long. It was time he spoke about their mission. Somehow, he had to make Rai’stahn understand.

Silbane looked at the dragon-knight, then began haltingly, “My lord, the lore father sensed a Gate may have opened. I have been dispatched to determine the threat.”