Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (54 page)

"Pay heed, for thy boon comes with a price. Thy petty affairs concern me little, for thy people are short-lived and useless. However—" Rai’stahn held up a taloned hand—"thy current king hath a long reach and seeks to eradicate those gifted with Talent. This I cannot abide. I stand against him and offer thee and thy people haven. In return, thou shalt aid me in protecting the Way, in any manner I deem necessary."

"A fair exchange, my lord." Themun bowed again, then stood and stepped back from the great dragon. "If I may ask your name?"

The dragon looked at the young mage, then stepped forward. He raised his armored hand and placed it upon Themun’s forehead, as a god would to a supplicant. "I am known as Rai’stahn, Lord of Meridian, and guardian of this world. Dost thee accept me as thy lord?"

Themun did not directly answer, instead saying, "I am Themun Dreys. With me stands my elder brother, Armun, and Thera Dawnlight. We seek to save those born into this land with Talent and would ally ourselves with you."

"Well met," intoned the dragon, Rai’stahn. "Two shall journey back to the Isle with my hatchling and prepare for my return."

"My lord?" Confusion ran across Themun’s face. "What of this rift we sense?"

The dragon moved forward, towering over the young mage, and stated, "Mortal, I do not request. I command as your liege."

Themun took a deep breath, then slowly stepped back. The power this creature radiated was palpable and he knew his next words could still condemn them to death. Rai’stahn was an elder dragon, and they would have little hope of defeating him should he suddenly change his mind. He spread his arms and bowed, breaking eye contact. "As you wish, my lord, but you said two. Who remains?"

The great dragon looked at the three, his golden gaze measuring. Then he pointed at Armun and said, "Thou shalt accompany me."

Themun and Armun locked gazes, then Armun said, "It is better I go. You must see to this island and our continued safety."

"No!" Thera blurted. "It may not be safe."

Armun looked at her and smiled. "With a dragon as my companion? You were safer with me than I with you. I will see to Dawnlight and this rift. Await my return."

Themun stood speechless. His brother and he had not been apart since their father’s death, and a part of him feared their separation.

As if answering his unspoken thought, the younger dragon stepped forward and said, "Thy brother is safe. He stands under the wing of my sire, and that is enough. It is not thy place to question thy lord."

Rai’stahn then turned toward the young Themun and reminded, "Do not forget our pact. Upon my return, we shall take the oath and bind your service to mine."

Themun knew what taking the oath would mean, for it would fundamentally change their role in this world. What would it do to those they saved, obligate them to serve whatever agenda the dragon had? He looked at Armun and Thera. "And shall we accept this unquestioned, for service unnamed?"

Armun was first to speak, "You know what father would have said." He moved to stand closer to the great armored knight, "I believe we accomplish much in building a future for our children, just as Rai’stahn does for his. Let us join forces and save who we can today." He smiled. "The future is for an older, better you."

Giridian watched as Rai’stahn changed back into his dragon form, and had Armun climb aboard. Through Themun’s eyes, he saw his brother raise a hand in farewell, a small crooked smile playing across his lips.

"Father chose well when he chose you to lead," said Armun. "I will return and follow, no matter what you decide."

Giridian felt the heartache Themun felt, the fear that knotted his stomach as the great dragon moved a bit farther away.

Rai’stahn looked back one more time and locked eyes with the young adept, saying, "It is a fair bargain I offer thee, mortal. Unasked, thou came to the aid of my hatchling and for that, I grant thee this boon. Think on it and we shall speak upon my return." With that, he bunched his great muscles and leapt into the air, departing with Armun aboard, a small streak of black arrowing through the clear blue sky. They quickly turned north to Dawnlight and a rift that seemed eerily similar to the one Giridian now faced at Bara’cor.

Rai’stahn’s daughter smiled, revealing again those fanged teeth and said, "Come, I will convey thee back to our lord’s demesne."

Giridian watched as the three walked down to the clearing littered with the remains of the basilisks, then, his vision faded to black.

* * * * *

Slowly, the Vault came into focus again, along with the concerned face of Dragor, who now stood to one side, rubbing Giridian’s hand to wake him.

He looked at Dragor and smiled. "Did you know Themun had a brother?" He did not yet mention the pact Themun had agreed to. In light of his conversation with Thoth, he had begun to see why these visions were problematic, for they created more questions than they answered.

Dragor shook his head and asked, "Trained in the Way?"

Giridian nodded. "He is Armun, and when they last saw each other, his brother had begun a journey to—"

"Dawnlight," Dragor finished, guessing correctly. "We need to find Armun, then, if he still lives. He may know much of these rifts and the dwarves."

"There is more," Giridian said. "I think I saw how we came into our service and our oath. It was driven by Rai’stahn."

"A dragon? That can't be true."

"No, I don’t mean that." The lore father looked about the room, as if searching the air for an answer. "What happens when one takes an oath so encompassing, so consuming, it defines the very nature of all who follow? What if it changes the very essence of who we are?"

"I don’t know what you mean. We are who we are," Dragor said simply. "Our oath is to serve the land and we have done so since Themun came here."

Giridian stood deep in thought, then came to a decision and said, "Prepare Jesyn for her test. There is no reason to delay her Ascension, and we will have need of another adept. Tomas will have to wait till he fully heals."

He needed to think more about Themun, Rai’stahn, and their role in all this. He had not known Meridian Isle and their beginning stood so inextricably linked to the great dragon, and knowing now gave him new perspective. It explained how so many of Talent found their way here. Rai’stahn brought them for protection by Themun and his council. It also shed light on some of Themun’s actions, though their moral rightness still seemed uncertain.

"And what of Armun?" Dragor asked.

Giridian looked at his friend and paused, not relishing the idea of sending yet more adepts into danger, but knowing there was no other choice. Assailants bent on their destruction had attacked them. Only Kisan’s quick thinking and the lore father’s sacrifice had let them survive. He needed to protect the Isle and contact Kisan and Silbane, which left only Dragor to deal with finding Armun.

Giridian laid a comforting hand on Dragor’s shoulder and said, "We must find him."

For his part, Dragor seemed to know what was coming next and asked, "By ‘we,’ I assume you mean me? You can’t use your new powers to just See there?" He didn’t expect an answer. "No, I suppose it’s not that easy."

The lore father smiled, "It’s not the same as
being
there. You will start at Dawnlight."

Journal Entry 15

I wonder who survived the last assault. My thoughts linger on them more, as time crawls along. That Rai’stahn intended the blow that pushed me here is uncontested. I have no doubts of his betrayal, and cherish the sharp focus the memory of it provides. I hope to see him again so I can repay his 'kindness'.

Beautiful Sonya, surely, for she was strong in the Way. Perhaps Duncan, though only by someone else’s sacrifice. He was always weak-willed so I question Sonya’s judgment, but only in her choice of him.

Elsimere, Dale? I hope they lived. Do they know it was my forbearance, my love for them, my intervention on their behalf that bent Lilyth’s final blow? Or do they blame me still? Is it foolishness to want their company, yet be angered by their lack of action, of fortitude? I feel no desire to write anything except how I stood alone in the end, victorious. Curse them all and good riddance to the lot. Perhaps I will see them again, but as conqueror and king.

Did I expect any different? No. I am the greatest. I am the most powerful archmage to have ever existed. Why would anyone stand with me to the very end? In trying, it would mean their lives, for they would have died long before I succumbed.

The imp is speaking now. It whispers things sometimes... it asks questions. What is it? Why do we live here? Stupid questions.

Documenting the failure and shortcomings of my so-called friends grows tiresome.

I am weary...

H
ISTORIES
: K
ISAN

Is one style of fighting better than another?

Will you see a different view,

From the same mountaintop,

As one who arrived by another path?

—Kensei Tsao, The Lens of Blades

T
he sky serpent flew through the dense foliage, its senses attuned to the heat of any living thing small enough for it to eat. A forked tongue flickered in and out, tasting the air for a meal. Its blue and silver iridescent scales flashed in the sunlight that pierced through the canopy above. The light pooled in reverse shadows, creating edges that looked like leaves.

Sky serpents were dangerous, something even a child knew. Unlike normal snakes, they hunted in either day or night, usually for small rodents and the like, but two things made them especially deadly.

First, their poison worked quickly and fatally on most creatures. Even the tiniest of these flying snakes could kill a man with one bite. Second, wherever baby sky serpents flew, there were usually one or two adults.

The adults were fearsome to behold, their bodies stretching for several lengths of a man. As they matured, their upper torsos became more man-like and their wings reduced into something similar to arms. They stood on their lower torso, wending their way through their hunting territory in search of larger prey.

It was said that adult sky serpents could speak, but learning their language presented severe challenges, resulting in few success stories. The most likely reason: adult sky serpents seemed unwilling to have a civil conversation with an inquisitive linguist, instead having the nasty habit of poisoning and eating them. As a result, little had been learned of these dangerous creatures, other than to give them a wide berth.

This juvenile still had its wings and now spotted something near the ground, a baby direhawk fallen from its nest. Instantly the serpent moved in, its senses alert and watching, both for the chick’s parents and for any other dangers that might lurk near so easy a meal.

Sky serpents’ nemeses were direhawks, one of the few creatures they feared. They would plummet from the wide blue above and kill with their taloned claws. They were fast and unerring, a predator equal to these feared creatures, at least while a sky serpent was still a juvenile.

Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, it wove through the air in a graceful spiral, unerringly at the fallen chick, who sensed the danger and began to cheep.

The serpent came to a stop a hand’s span away from the chick, its wings moving in a blur as it hovered. Its forked tongue flicked out, measuring, tasting. Then it shot forward, mouth open and fangs outstretched. The air shimmered and a blade whistled down, slicing the serpent’s head from its body in one clean stroke.

Even as the two pieces fell to the ground, the form of a girl appeared from out of thin air. She may have been sixteen or seventeen summers old, but one could already see the nascent beauty she would one day command as a woman. The blade she wielded rested comfortably in one hand, with a small streak of the serpent’s blood, bluish-black, dripping from its keen edge.

Her other hand held a string tied to the baby direhawk’s foot. She pulled that string and grabbed the chick, stuffing it into a small, soft pouch on her belt. The head popped out, complaining in bird cheeps, and she fed it a grub saying, "Stop it. You were never in any
real
danger."

Turning her attention to the serpent’s body, she grabbed and stuffed it into another pouch. Later she would skin and eat it. It wasn’t the best tasting, but highly nutritious. She straightened to stand and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something was definitely wrong.

She looked around, her eyes bright and keen, searching for whatever was out there. If it was an adult sky serpent, she would need to move quickly to a defensible position. She had never faced one and did not relish the thought, though her heart quickened a bit at the idea of the challenge.

"How long will you continue this?" The voice carried clearly through the trees, and the form of the man attached to it slowly became visible. "You have better options, Kisan."

She let out a sigh and an expletive. "Wasn’t ‘no’ the last three times enough?" She backed up, sheathing her blade in one smooth motion. "At least this time you didn’t scare away dinner."