‘ANOTHER nightmare, my son?’ Coronos’ voice drifted down to Asaph, thick and heavy with sleep.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ Asaph replied in Draxian, looking over at the older man and cursing his nightmares on seeing his father’s weary face.
‘On the contrary, I was having my own nightmares, and am glad to be awake,’ Coronos said, propping himself up on a pillow. ‘Funnily enough, it was about your mother, again. I wish I could change the past, but I cannot,’ he added, motioning to the ring in Asaph’s hand.
Asaph gave a half smile and turned back to stare at his mother’s ring. ‘Speak to me of her again. You know I love to hear about her.’
‘And I never tire of speaking about her,’ Coronos sighed. ‘Your mother, the great Queen Pheonis of Drax, Queen of the mighty dragon realm of the north.’ Asaph smiled as Coronos indulged in his singsong storytelling voice. ‘And she was more than just a leader loved by her people, for she was a Dragon Lord possessing the ability to become a dragon at will.’
Asaph could feel Coronos’ searching eyes upon him. He held his breath praying that the dreaded question: “Has the dragon come to you?” would not be asked again, forcing him to lie a thousandth time. Already his skin prickled with the pangs of guilt and embarrassment. He could so easily say yes, that he too was a Dragon Lord like his mother. The truth boiled within him. He sat there staring at his mother’s ring, refusing to look Coronos in the eye, and silently thanking the glowing embers for hiding his reddening face.
Coronos continued and Asaph let go of his breath, feeling painfully alone with his secret. Eventually he lost himself to Coronos’ words, becoming a young boy again as his father recounted for the hundredth time the story of his mother. Her face drifted before him - a face he found fiercely beautiful with copper-coloured skin, sparkling blue eyes and red hair the colour of the setting sun.
‘This rare and powerful gift crops up where Feygriene chooses; amongst the rich and poor, the royal and the peasant, seemingly without any pattern and careless of any bloodline. If no heir to the throne possessed the ability, and it must be said again that few heirs did,’ Asaph met Coronos’ eyes unblinking, ‘then the people would choose another with the gift to reign, for none other than a Dragon Lord could rule Drax and keep the peace between man and dragon. That was how it had always been.
‘I was not a Dragon Lord, but I was a Dragon Rider. I was honoured to be the leader of the Dragon Legion, and protectorate of the Queen and King and people of Drax. Your parents were my closest friends, and in time I became an advisor to them. No matter how terrible the fall of Drax was, and what befell your mother and father, you must know the truth and never be afraid of it.’ Coronos looked at Asaph, the low light of the embers cast everything in an orange glow, making the shadows dance around them like imps.
When Asaph had first learned about the fall of Drax and the death of his parents, he joined the millions in his hatred of Baelthrom and the Maphraxies. It was a terrible hatred that burned within and threatened to consume him. The Immortal Lord had taken all and left him with nothing.
‘The beginnings of the Dragon Lords are shrouded in mystery,’ Coronos continued. ‘History tells us that long ago humans and dragons fought each other in ceaseless bloody wars. Legend tells us that our beloved Feygriene took pity on her children, and chose for human and dragon to be bound together, forever ending the bloodshed between them.
‘The last battle fought between human and dragon unfolded upon the great mountains called The Grey Lords. It was there that Qurenn the warrior and Slevina the Dragon Queen fought bitterly from sunrise to sunset. As the light of the setting sun cast them in crimson, they mortally wounded each other. They lay there utterly spent, and dying side by side, their life’s blood mingling together as it spilled down the frozen mountain.
‘As dragon blood mixed with human, so did all that was in it; their essence, their history, their memories, their passion, their love. All that they were was shared between them, and in their dying state a new understanding was born. Qurenn’s soldiers struggled to reach him, and when they did it was too late. But those valiant men and women were blessed with a new understanding, and from that day the gift was formed. Their children were the first of a new being - all were Dragon Lords, their blood a mix of human and dragon.
‘With their lives Qurenn the Courageous and Slevina the Dragon Queen ended the Great Dragon Wars, and saved the lives of thousands, giving birth to the legend. The sword Qurenn slew Slevina with became the symbol of their union. Its new red pommel was forged from Slevina’s blood and it was named the Sword of Binding.’
The sword flashed clearly in Asaph’s mind straight from the Recollection, blotting out all other thoughts. His heart lurched at the sight of it. The sword was a symbol of his origin, of all the Dragon Lords’ origins, and to the core of his being, he knew that the sword belonged to him.
‘Here let me show you.’ Coronos reached under the bed and pulled out a grey velvet pouch that was worn in places. He glanced about himself and slipped out a white crystal orb about the size of a man’s fist. Asaph had seen the Orb of Air many times before and knew it was always hidden about Coronos’ person somewhere, but rarely did his father use it. The hairs on his arm rose, he could feel the potent magic locked within it.
‘Where did you actually get the orb?’ Asaph asked. On the rare occasion Coronos used it, like now, Asaph learned something more of its power.
‘The Orb of Air was given to the Dragon Lords by the Ancients. Dragons are masters of the element of air, and so it was deemed right and proper that this orb should be given to the Dragon Lords. It has been passed down to those most suitable and guarded closely.
‘Look,’ Coronos said, and whispered in ancient Draxian rune-speak.
The hairs on Asaph’s arm rose and fell in waves as the magic in Coronos’ words swirled around him. He felt the energy flow into the orb. As they watched white clouds moved within it and a gleaming sword formed at its centre. Asaph’s heart began to pound as he looked upon the blood red pommel and the shining blue-grey metal, memory and desire stirring his emotions.
‘The great sword is hidden deep within the fortress of Drax, or was. Only myself, and the King and Queen knew where it was and how to find it,’ Coronos said. The sword image dimmed at a motion of Coronos’ hand.
‘All Dragon Lords, once discovering their wondrous gift, served the king and queen and underwent rigorous training for many years to master their powerful talents, for if they did not they were unable to control it. Many an untrained Dragon Lord has died young, helpless to prevent harm to themselves or others.’ Asaph caught Coronos’ eye and looked away.
‘They are the keepers of Drax, sworn to protect their homeland. But in the end, even the Dragon Lords and our dragon army could not withstand the might of Baelthrom and his Maphraxies. Over millennia Baelthrom’s power had grown unchecked and his reach so vast no one could stand against him anymore. Relentlessly he attacked our great Kingdom of the North, but such was Drax’s might that it would be only through treachery that Baelthrom could cause our downfall.
‘But anyway… It was as if you wanted to fight the enemy yourself, so quickly did you come into this world.’ Coronos’ smile was filled with warmth, but Asaph could see his eyes were glistening with a sadness that even time could not seem to heal.
‘Tell me what happened, I’m old enough now to hear it. I sometimes think I have memories of it…’ he trailed off.
Coronos was watching him as if measuring him up to see if he was ready for the truth. He nodded slowly.
Coronos had been dreading this moment for over two decades, the moment when he would be forced to tell his beloved adopted son the full story of his parent’s demise. He had left it far too late. He wondered whether he had really been sparing Asaph from the truth, or sparing himself from speaking aloud the memories. The wounds had never healed and he knew they wouldn’t, not until Baelthrom and all his Maphraxies were destroyed, and Drax was free.
He cradled the orb in the crook of his elbow, wondering how to begin as Asaph’s expectant eyes watched him. It seemed so often of late that he relived the past in his quiet moments, the memories stealing up on him when his guard was at its weakest.
In truth, it was hard not to be reminded of his murdered friends, because as Asaph grew older he looked more and more like his father, King Ixus. He could see the man’s high brow, chiselled nose and chin reflected in Asaph’s own face, the same dimpled cheeks that softened otherwise angular features. The same thick fair hair, though Asaph’s carried more of a reddish tinge, courtesy of his mother.
Asaph also shared his father’s unorthodox inability to suppress sorrow. Often he had seen tears form in the boy’s eyes when upset, as he had seen the King himself turn away on hearing distressing news. When their much-loved hound was mortally wounded in an accident, it was the Queen who’d remained dry-eyed, consoling her husband who wept openly into his hands.
The glimmer of tears in a Draxian king was more of a wonder to those who saw it than a cause for shame. King Ixus was not weak and had proved himself fearless time and again in battles against the Maphraxies. Indeed, the King’s tears showed he truly cared, and that was well and good. Funny, it was Asaph’s eyes that affected Coronos the most, stirring up those painful memories in an instant, because they were the same as his mother’s eyes, blue and full of fiery passion.
The warmth of the orb caught his attention and he looked down into its swirling grey and white eddies. Beloved Queen Pheonis, if only you could see your son today. The orb was quick to respond to his thoughts, and her face formed within it. Red curls dark as smouldering embers framed her face, and soft lips curled into a warm smile so real it was as if she lived once more. Tears clouded Coronos’ vision, making it look as though she was surrounded by a glimmering halo.
‘She seems so young,’ Asaph breathed, staring into the orb.
‘Older than you are today,’ Coronos said. He murmured a word, and the orb turned grey. Asaph’s shoulders slumped. The orb responded to its Keeper’s thoughts and emotions, and he did not want Asaph to see as well as hear his parents demise.
Coronos drew the blanket higher around him, covering the orb to be sure nothing could be seen. He smiled nervously and frowned, still at a loss as to where to start. He coughed to clear his throat and cast his mind back into the darkness of that terrible time, reliving the nightmare that happened twenty-five years ago.
‘Queen Pheonis went into early labour with you when she received the shocking news of the enemies surprise attack upon our great city Draxa. Never before had they managed to get past the Southern Shores, and no one to their last breath would ever believe they would reach the city gates. Baelthrom’s devastating offensive was a shock to us all, we were caught at night, unawares, when the city was sound asleep.’
‘Cowards,’ Asaph growled, his eyes glowered in the low light.
Coronos stroked his beard. ‘Perhaps, and then again, perhaps not. It speaks something of Drax’s might to be attacked thusly, for sure. But I’ve thought upon it time and again, and there is more to this story that has yet to be revealed - and the truth I shall find if it’s the last thing I do.’ Coronos’ chin was set. Asaph sat poised for more.
‘The full force of Baelthrom’s horde had been hidden in a thick fog. It was the growing light of dawn that revealed the unholy magic, for the fog was sickly green, and most surely created by his necromantic wizards. To this day I have never solved how such a massive army went undetected by our own magical defences, auric shields and dragon scouts. It just could not have happened so easily unless,’ he paused, ‘unless we were betrayed by someone close to us.
‘A part of me thinks that somehow, somewhere, hidden deep within the orb, is the knowledge of the one who betrayed us. But try as I might, I’ve never been able to uncover it, and my knowledge of how to use the orb is weak at best,’ he sighed and slumped his shoulders.
‘The labouring Queen Pheonis could not flee,’ Coronos continued. ‘The minutes seemed like hours as I paced the darkened hallways outside her birthing chamber. I had so badly chewed my nails that they were covered in blood,’ he looked down at his hands as if they were still bloody.
‘Outside, beyond the castle walls, you could hear the cries and clashes of metal as the battle for Draxa raged. I wished I were there, leading as I’d done in the past, but King Ixus ordered me to stay at the Queen’s side whilst he led the battle, and I could not disobey. I was getting older, and had passed my mantle as Commander of the Dragon Legion over to another some five years before.
‘For all my desperate fervent hopes, I knew that the Dragon Legion fought a losing battle against the overwhelming might of the Maphraxies. We were severely outnumbered by at least two to one. Unprepared and outmanoeuvred, so excellently was the betrayal carried out.’ Coronos fell silent, scanning the faces in his memory of all those he knew for a sign, a clue, anything that would let him know who had betrayed them, but there was no clue.
‘I can see the enemy so clearly as if I’m there now, the memory never fades… I watched from the window. Their faces… All grotesquely deformed as if their bones did not fit under their dead skin. And their eyes are the worst for they are soulless, filled with madness and a terrible hunger for the life force that they can never have. To look them in the eye instils terror into the hearts of all living things.’ Coronos looked at Asaph who shuddered.
‘Once upon a time those beasts had been human or elf or dwarf. But now… Now they are something else. Their souls have gone to oblivion whilst their bodies live on, made immortal through forced consumption of the foul Black Drink. And what it does to Dragon Lords… a most terrible thing.
‘When Baelthrom destroyed Drax he saw to it that all Dragon Lords were captured, tortured, and dissolved into abominable half-beings; the Dromoorai and their steed, the Dread Dragon. One soul, one body, split into two beings of equal power… and equal evil. All the Dragon Lords are gone, Asaph. I pray most were killed rather than enslaved, though my heart breaks to say it.’
‘I cannot think of a worse fate,’ Asaph grimaced. ‘What is this Black Drink? You mentioned it a long time ago, but I forgot to ask more about it.’
‘The elves call it “Sirin Derenax” - it means Oblivion of Souls. Once a living being consumes it, the foul magic captures the soul, and once enslaved it can then be extracted by the slaver, one of Baelthrom’s vile necromancers. In the transformation to immortality, the soulless body is forced to grow quickly, bones become thick and heavy, unnatural muscles bulge causing the body to twist and deform into all manner of lumbering shapes. The mind grows dull and empty, and the body becomes soulless, but immortal.
‘Most beings become Maphraxie soldiers, but Dragon Lords become Dromoorai. Wizards become necromancers. Even animals are not exempt, becoming foltoy or death hounds. The goddess only knows what other hideous beings Baelthrom has created.’
‘But what happens to the enslaved soul?’ Asaph asked.
‘No one truly knows except Baelthrom and his necromancers. It’s thought part of the soul’s life force is instilled into the next Black Drink, and the other part is sent into oblivion. Maybe even into the Dark Rift itself. Either way, the soul is destroyed in the process, its living light is frozen, becomes dead light and then un-light.
‘When the soul is taken like this, no image or whisper is ever seen or heard from them again. The elves said they went into utter darkness, into oblivion, into uncreation.’ Both men were silent and Coronos wondered if Asaph too was considering how many beings had met such an awful demise.
‘Is there really nothing that can be done? Can nothing stop him?’ Asaph said.
‘Always we have tried. I have mentioned before the Fighters of the Free World, collectively called the Feylint Halanoi. But even two and a half decades ago their numbers were dwindling rapidly. Killed or enslaved, and used to swell the ranks of Baelthrom’s army faster than new soldiers could be recruited. In the end, the Feylint Halanoi fight against their lost comrades, now monstrous immortals. The goddess only knows what the state of the Feylint Halanoi is now, if it even exists at all.
‘I have felt safe out here. Safe from the vile reaches of the immortals. But deep down I have always known that it was a false safety. Baelthrom will not stop at Drax, or Frayon. He strives to conquer all of Maioria and beyond, for his mind is a cancer that knows no boundaries. He feeds off the living to sustain his unholy form.
‘Our lives were saved by coming here, but the time has passed so fast. One day we must return to our homeland, whatever is left of it. Our souls yearn for it. I remind myself that you are not a boy anymore, but a man, and I understand your need to see your homeland,’ he smiled at Asaph. ‘Now it seems the time to return is coming, though in a way I wish that we could stay.’
‘I’ve also felt it time to return to the Old World,’ Asaph said, his eyes wide in excitement. ‘I’ve felt a growing restlessness over the past few months, and now I can hardly bear it. Though I have many friends here, my homeland calls to me. Sometimes I dream of her, my mother.’ Asaph’s voice dropped to barely a whisper and he turned the flame ring over in his palm. ‘But my blood father I never knew. What really happened to him?’
Coronos sighed and raised an eyebrow. ‘You will have the whole story from me, won’t you? King Ixus, your father, was like me, a Dragon Rider, but without Pheonis beside him as Dragon Lord and Dragon Rider, he was like a knight without a sword. He refused to ride another dragon, for a bond must be forged between them, and instead took a horse to lead the ground army,’ his voice grew tight as a lump rose in his throat.
‘I hugged him close. He knew, as did I, that we would not meet again. Then he was gone. I am sure, and it is a small blessing, that he was killed on the battlefield and not enslaved by the Sirin Derenax.’ Coronos forced a smile at Asaph, hoping to reassure, but the younger man’s head was turned and he could not see his face.
‘I pray to Feygriene for you, King Ixus,’ Coronos whispered, relaxing a fist he had not known he clenched. ‘An hour or so after he left, you came screaming into the world. Pheonis knew when her husband fell. She said, “Ixus has fallen,” then she held you close. Her expression I will never, ever, forget. Resolute, unyielding, even to the bitter end.
‘She said, “it is over,” and I had nodded. I can still hear the Maphraxies as they streamed into the courtyard through the battered gates and crumbling walls. I can see them swarm through the City of Draxa, like a black mass of scuttling beetles. The clash of metal still rings in my head and the screams of dying men and women… It would take time, but the Maphraxies would find us in the hidden chamber eventually.
‘She named you “Asaph,” and as you know it means “the rising sun” in the old tongue. “For the perpetual dawn, and the hope that rises with it,” she said, “he will bring light to the darkness that sweeps across our world.” ’ Coronos smiled at Asaph, seeing the young man’s discomfort.
‘I wish that she were right,’ Asaph said, ‘I’ve been as useful as a fish out of water.’
‘You have only just reached manhood,’ Coronos laughed. ‘You expect too much of yourself. I only tell you what she told me, and your mother was never wrong about anything. But anyway, Drax and its Dragon Queen were lost. She told me her wishes, speaking with strength and passion despite her exhaustion, commanding me to do my honour-bound duty for my Queen. Her tears fell ceaselessly as she passed to me the tiny crying bundle that was you. Funny, I remembered her being that small when I was younger, so long had I stood by her side.
‘She also passed to me three enchanted keys and whispered so no other would hear. “The keys to the chamber of the Sword of Binding,” she told me. Only one key would work. The Holder of the Keys would know which one, and no other. The other keys were certain death. I tried to protest, but her will was sacrosanct. I still have the keys, but only the goddess knows how to reach the sword.’ Coronos looked at Asaph, who was again staring into the hearth, and wondered how much more he should say. He decided to keep it brief.
‘The rest happened fast. Shouting came from down the hall, and the Queen ordered me to go. I kissed her forehead for the last time and fled into the secret passages that led down to the sea. I left her to her fate in order to do her bidding, to save her only son. Down endless dark passageways, I ran with you in my arms. You were asleep you know, I thanked Feygriene’s blessings for that,’ Coronos laughed, Asaph smiled, unshed tears also in his eyes.
‘Down and down I went until the stone walls became wet and the air thick with sea salt. I emerged out into a howling wind and a cove where a boat waited. Not more than thirty people filled it. Out to sea away from the rocks, a merchant ship was anchored waiting for us. Sixty was the total number that finally made it aboard that small ship. Only sixty that I know of escaped the death and destruction wreaked upon Draxa by the Maphraxies. I pray that more got out.’
Coronos hung his head, remembering his last sight of Drax as they sailed away into the west, into the darkness. The only light came from the fire breathed by doomed dragons and Dragon Lords on the eastern horizon.
‘Queen Pheonis had known Drax would fall, but had she known we were betrayed?’ Coronos said, partly to himself. The orb burned against his side. It had shown him the briefest glimpse of her final demise, and he wished he’d never looked. He looked away from the younger man. I will not show him what the orb showed me, that much I will spare him.
‘Baelthrom slaughtered her most cruelly. Her death was meant to be a message to the Feylint Halanoi, a warning to all those that dared defy his might - for even the proud Draxians would grovel before him, and their mighty Dragon Lord Queen crushed under his feet.
‘Well, all that was many years ago now, how swiftly time flies. You should get some more sleep, my son, dawn is still an hour away,’ Coronos said with finality. He suddenly didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He sunk down into the bed with a yawn, arm wrapped around the orb, wishing he could have ended on a happier note, but he was bone weary.
‘I’ll try, though sleep seems far away,’ Asaph said, but lay back down anyway.
‘Oh, and if on your journey you come across any greynight, I could do with some for my pipe,’ Coronos said.
‘Yes, Father,’ Asaph said with a yawn.