The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (35 page)

“Sad story indeed, but what does that have to do with me? Did someone find this
Mooncrest
and rebuild it or something?” Zen tried to find the moral to the story, to see what Ansharr was trying to relay to him.

“
No, good priest.
Not yet. However, your
Kakisteele
mines are on the northern mountain border to Tintasarn, the fabled elven district south of the small Kaki Mountains.
They both reside in the lost kingdom of Mooncrest, which indeed, beyond the shadow of a doubt, exists. And by the way, your key says, in draconic tongue,
all
that enter
are blessed
.”

“I have heard of Tintasarn and the old tales of Mooncrest, but simply as a mythical upstart kingdom that failed long ago. You mean that you have a key to such a place?” Shinayne looked at the key, in awe of the story and what this dwarf may be carrying.

“I also have the deed to the kingdom in the mountain, for whatever that is worth. They say it is cursed, haunted by the dead, and swarming at night with fiends and creatures that no army could defeat. If half the rumors and old stories are true, than it is certain death anyway.” Zen was not sure if it was more comfortable knowing it may exist and be damned, or better to stick with his people’s word that it is only a myth.

“
It is said that there is also a dragon there that keeps a pact with the demon, the curses of the dead, and protects the place from outsiders. I have heard much the same, but never seen it myself.” Ansharr nodded her head, knowing it was not likely what they wanted to hear, but she was not about to lie and tell them there was no danger. The ancient dragon knew that thousands over the millennia had died trying to find the lost kingdom, or died in it once they had.

“Ansharr, is there any chance that we could even make it one foot into such a place? If the stories are true, they say no one has ever returned having found it. How could Shinayne and I even conceive to-“

“And me.” Saberrak huffed, leaning on his axe from beside the great red dragon, staring at Zen.

“At your service, master Thalanaxe.” James Andellis bowed deeply and smiled.

“Are you all mad? To cross Shanador to its western border alone would take
a
over
month of travel. I doubt there is anything there of interest anyway after all this time.” Gwenne shook her head, seeing bravado and excitement overrule common sense.

“On the contrary Gwenneth L
azlette, a once famous archmage
by the name of Carados had a tower in the center of the city and a library that was said to rival the great library in Caberra.
He was killed, betrayed by a powerful student they say.
” Ansharr looked down at the young wizard and smiled, noting her facial expressions change drastically at the mention of an archmage.

“
I sense
you will need my expertise on this journey. So
,
since I
cannot let you
die horrible deaths simply because I chose
not to help you, I will lend my assistance
.” Gwenne raised her nose in the air, stifling her excitement at even viewing the tower of the fabled Carados she had read about in old tomes in Vallakazz. Archmages nor their secrets did not exist anymore, having been hunted down and killed by the Altestani and the church long ago; so the mention of one would entice any wizard to seek out even the smallest scrap of parchment belonging to one, let alone a tower.
A wizard of t
hat power was said to have control
over the arcane that was no longer mortal and beyond comprehension, just what Gwenne had always wanted, and just what she would love to show her mother and the academy she was capable of.

Ansharr smiled at the wizard’s easily changeable attitude, and looked at the silent Lord of Saint Erinsburg. He had been leaning on the stone entrance, listening intently and captured deep in his thoughts. “And what of the noble lord? Are you able to take on such a task with these fine
travelers?”

They all looked toward Cristoff, who smiled back and met each of their stares in the early dark of morning on the mountaintop. “Rarely have I seen people decide to take on such a dangerous quest, and never purely out of friendship. I would be honored to go with you, in fact my wandering mind will surely be haunted by thoughts of adventure, day
and night
,
from here out. I wish I could say that I could go with you, but my title and duty as lord of a great city must prevail. I admire your courage, all of you, and insist that you come to Saint Erinsburg to prepare. There is nothing more I desire than to journey
with you, but I must decline.” l
ord Bradswellen the Third bowed to them all, inspired by the comradery and loyalty of such a mixed group of companions pulling together for the troubles and dreams of their dwarven ally. Had Harlaheim half the honor they showed each other, the kingdom he served would once again be the glorio
us realm it once was. He turned to walk back inside and get some more rest before dawn, content that he knew his place and responsibility in
t
his troubled country.
He could not j
ust up and leave, not now
.
Yet his mind began to dare to dream of it, and he smiled.

“I don’t know what to say, I ummm…I still think this is plain insane to tell ya the truth, but then I guess
I am with the right folk, eh?” Zen chuckled, thankful that he would not have a lonely road to find without his friends, his only friends. He put the box back in his pouch and silently thanked Vundren, God of his people and the mountain from the highest point in Harlaheim.

“Don’t get in too much of a hurry there dwarf, we still need to know about this scroll before we leave it here forever.”
t
he gray horned warrior walked back into the cave behind Cristoff, also to take a bit more rest.
The minotaur had nowhere to go after this quest involving the scroll was finished, which it seemed to him it nearly was. He had seen the last of his gladiatorial slave days in Unlinn, and had left his past far behind him. The only people he knew sat here on Soujan Mountain, and where they went he would certainly have to protect.

James
had hoped that the noble lord had decided to join with, but understood his sense of duty very well. His duty was to assist these brave souls, by order of King Mikhail of Chazzrynn, and he intended to do just that. He thought of the br
ave Lord Knight Errant, Savanno,
and hoped that when they reunited in Saint Erinsburg that perhaps he would join them. He admired these men of Harlaheim, the knights and lords that he had always wanted to be. The knight of Chazzrynn saw the faint glimmer of pink to the west, marking the coming of morning. Full of questions of the scroll and of this mythical place, he could hardly sleep. Still, he stepped from the side of the dragon and went to dream in peace of where they would perhaps be off to tomorrow.

Shinayne T’Sarrin looked at the dwarf beside her, smiling at his silence. “Thank you, Azenairk Thalanaxe.”

“For what? You and Ansharr are the ones who managed to get everyone to go along on this road to certain death, I wouldn’t be thanking anyone quite yet. Ye may be dead in a month or so ya know!” Zen stood up, bowed to his friend and slowly stepped past the enormous dragon, bowing to her as well. He felt much better, like he may be able to actually rest for a few hours before he awoke to pray. Like a thousand pound anvil had been lifted from his chest, his secret revealed, Azenairk Thalanaxe went to dream of the journey to come.

“You still want to leave, lady Shinayne?” the soft voice of the dragon had hints of knowing the answer to the rhetorical question already, but said it just to make her point.

“Of course not, your wisdom is beyond thanks great Ansharr. I still miss him and love him, though. But as he has his journey
, so must I.” t
he elven swordswoman bowed deep with eyes closed to the great red dragon of the mountain.

“There is something still missing, something that hinders your meditation. I have a gift for you. I have treasures to share with all of you, but yours is especially sacred and
dear to me. Come, I will show you.” Ansharr walked back into her cavern, past the sleeping travelers, and into her treasury with the highborne elf close behind. It had been a millennia since she was given this token of honor from an elf king from the north. One of her prized belongings, yet it did her little use here collecting dust. “Now I must tell you first of how these came to me.”

Shinayne’s aquamarine eyes opened wide, having never seen this amount of perfection,
beauty, or ancient decoration in
such a set. “Oh I couldn’t great dragon. I mean, if you absolutely insist.”

“
I absolutely insist.”

Lavress
II:III

Gimmorian Temple, Selronis Cliffs, Caberra

The sliver in the cliff widened as Lavress Tilaniun silently crept from stone inlet to ledge to stalagmites for cover. Unlike the previous hidden temple in the cliffs of the Deep South, this cavern was adorned with statues and
designs that depicted stoic and artistic
thing
s. Giant winged men with wreaths
in their hands and around their feet, men twice as tall as the wood elf. They lined the walls on either side of the polished stone floor which was immaculate a
nd held decorations of the white
moon. Every word, inlay of hierog
lyph, and every statue of a chiseled
angelic
figure was made of a light
smooth stone which held an effervescent glow. As he crept closer, bow in hand, the screeching of the harpies dwindled; Lavress assumed they dared not search for him in here since they seemed to avoid the entrance. Hearing nothing, not even a whisper of w
hat lay ahead besides more strange
light, the hunter of th
e Hedim Anah cautiously moved in
.

Sulfur and burned skin or hair drifted lightly on the still stagnant air, the savage wood elf smelled it faintly. More statues ahead stood in his path, these not organized or lining the walls like the others nor did t
hey seem to be made of the luminescant
stone. They were black, shiny, and almost wet or glistening it seemed. Lavress stepped closer, seeing a human man in robes depicted in the carved figure before him. He touched it, the smooth edges ended in sharp jags and sticky bubbles. The smell of sulfur was from this statue, and many others like it ahead; some standing, some toppled over, all in strange positions. He turned to look at the face in the low emerald light
that shone from ahead
, and saw a look of terror on the man’s face. The being held a set of scrolls as if to
offer them to whatever lay beyond
. Lavress looked at the other human sized formations, along with several elven ones. They were not statues at all, they had been burned or covered with some sort of hardening liquid or
black sulfuric
ichor
. These men had been turned to volcanic stone, or covered in
it; some very recently as had been
making some sort of ritual or presentation of gifts
. Lavress looked ahead to the shimmering pool of glowing liquid set in the ground
ahead. Blade in one hand, book in the other, Lavress saw the motionless obsidian statue
he assumed was Eliah Shendrynn.

One man with a set of books, a woman covering her face in terror with a handful of wands and skulls, and many more, perhaps thirty men and wome
n in robes, all solid shiny black
.
Lavress walked
past them all,
up to the statue of Eliah Shendrynn, the highborne rogue elven wizard he had been hunting half a year now across this continent. His eyes looked to be wide
in shock, his body cast in obsidian
stone yet still warm to the touch, and in his hands was a book, the book Lavress needed to return.
Placing his bow on his back and returning the arrow to the quiver, the hunter drew his kukri dagger.
He started to cut off a piece of what was once wizardly robes, chiseled it until a piece fell to the ground. Lavress watched, hoping it would return to cloth, but it did not.
The hunter looked at Eliah, looked to his arms holding the book, and to his kukri and sharp curved falcata. He thought to chop it out of the statue and let the elven wizards or priests figure a way to turn it back from onyx stone to a book.
He cared not for Eliah’s hand in this dead set eternity, only the book.

A snarl from the other side of the strange glowing pool snatched that idea from him, as he took cover behind the statue of his prey and prize. Lavress slowly drew his falcata with the ch
asing wolves design in the hilt
and tried not to breath
e
. The deep snarling and heavy footsteps denoted something large, much larger than himself.

He peered around the frozen
black figure of Eliah Shendrynn
and saw the creature walking out from around the pool right toward him. Easily twelve feet tall and hunched over at the shoulder, the beast had the face of a wolf yet walked on two legs. Clawed feet and hands gave way to gray and black mottled fur with a hairless a
nd green skinned underbelly bearing
inhuman muscles and veins. Its canine face snarled from yellow and black teeth as long as hi
s dagger and just as sharp. R
ed demonic eyes glowed with a green flame as its oval pupils stared back at Lavress, right through the statue; it knew he was there.
Orange saliva drooled from the rows of teeth on its jaws, sizzling into the stone far below and releasing a horrid sulfuric smoke into the air. Hearing the elf breathing, as shallow as it was, its wolflike ears perked toward the statue of Eliah.