The tracks that Christel had seen in the sand were as clear as day. He assumed that whoever had left them was smart enough to know that hiding tracks from the djann was pointless. He placed a ready hand over his sword. The people who had gone into the temple hadn’t come out yet.
Christel’s chance encounter with Sam had appeared to have gone relatively well, however it worried him that the military was so deep within djann territory. Regardless of that, he had a mission now – unite the humans, djann, and orcs – defeat Garn, and earn his freedom. No one was going to stop him now.
As he walked up the sandy stone steps that lead into the temple, he wondered about who this person was that he was going to meet. This stranger was supposed to have all the answers – about Garn, his plan, and his mysterious powers.
Inside the temple was the largest room that Christel had ever been in. The stone floor was plain and layered with dust. The far off walls were lined with statues of nameless figures, and above them, a stone stairway trailed up into a higher floor. There’s more to this place?
Christel took a few cautious steps forward, with Hazel only a few feet behind him. A gap in the wall above the entrance shot a beam of dusty sunlight through the temple, illuminating the far wall. They were both stunned by what they saw.
Carved into the far wall was the immaculate body of a dragon. Its powerful wings almost stretched from one side of the wall to the other. The dragon had opened its great jaws and sent a terrifying burst of fire into the air, way up into the ceiling. Beneath the dragon’s wings were ten distinct figures, five on the left and five on the right. They were all women of perfect detail, each had a different face and different clothes, and they all held different objects in their hands – a bag of coins, a scythe, a sand timer, a sceptre, a staff, two swords, a candle, a scroll, a mask, and a pile of sand.
These are the ten divine, Christel realised, and a dragon! All the history and mythology books told of dragons roaming the land ages before their time. How old is this temple? He would have asked Kaizin however he knew that the djann had never dared enter the temple for they believed that the gods rested there. Is that who I am supposed to meet? One of the gods?
In front of the dragon and the statues was an altar – a massive stone brick covered with dust. Upon it rested a perfect benezian diamond that was larger than his fist, pulsing rays of shining purple light. It was by far the largest he had ever seen. Did they worship the crystals?
He then heard the feint scrape of a foot across the ground, and before he could think he felt the sting of a blade against his back. Hazel gasped and cried out. A black-gloved hand pressed over Christel’s mouth and it forced him to turn towards Hazel.
“Don’t move,” said the voice behind him, he knew that voice.
Hazel recognised the assailant’s face immediately. “Arlandra?” she murmured.
The blade disappeared immediately. “Hazel,” said the voice, and then he looked at Christel’s face. “Christel! My god, I thought I felt something familiar about you.”
Christel was just as shocked. “I never expected to see you again. What are you doing here?”
Arlandra slid his knife away. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlhB85bjAY6
“Try me,” Christel challenged.
“Well, I was send here by Ariana, you know, goddess of fate…”
He was sent here too? It can’t be. Why would she send him as well?
“I know who she is, Arlandra,” he said sharply.
“Well she sent me here to find a way to kill Garn Pallerii. Why are you here?”
Christel smiled as Arlandra walked passed him to examine the dragon. “I’d say it was fate,” Christel exclaimed, “but that’s what she does, isn’t it.”
“Ariana, you mean?” Arlandra asked.
“That’s right, she sent me here to help put an end to Garn’s plans.”
She told me that I was the only person who could save Noveria, Christel thought, this is a challenge.
“That’s good then,” Arlandra said carefully. “I guess we were both chosen to be her champions.”
When Arlandra turned away from the altar he had almost strolled right into the end of Christel’s blade. Christel had drawn his sword and aimed it directly at the assassin. “But the thing about a champion,” Christel continued, “is that there can only be one. My bet is that Ariana wants to see who’s the strongest.”561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYEsVx1C8y4
The assassin smiled, his green eyes flashing. “That’s funny, I was just thinking the exact same thing.”
“Christel stop it!” Hazel cried.
And Juliet uttered out, “Arlandra!”
The assassin drew his blade faster than Christel could react, and in one swift stroke he battered the thief’s sword and they were locked.
“I think I’m actually looking forward to this.” The assassin smiled.
But then they were interrupted as a silhouette appeared against the light at the entrance. Who else did she send? Christel wondered.
“Arlandra!” The man called out. “Christel! What are you doing here?”
“Oh great!” Arlandra cried. “She sent us the soldier too.”
“Wait, what is going on?” Sam questioned as he moved into the room with Ashley beside him.
Christel glanced over to Sam, however he kept his blade pointed at Arlandra. “It seems Ariana wants one of us to stop Garn. But that won’t be a problem seeing as I’m the one who’s going to do it.”
Arlandra edged his sword slightly closer to Christel’s throat. “In your dreams, thief.”
And then Sam drew his sword, joining in the conflict. “I don’t think you guys understand,” he replied firmly. “If I don’t capture Garn then I’ll forever be branded as a criminal, and I can’t have that.”
Both Arlandra’s and Christel’s swords swung over to aim at Sam’s head. The soldier’s eyes darted from one to the other. Then he continued, “besides, Christel, what business does a thief have being here?”
“Ariana gave me a chance at freedom,” Christel answered, “and I’m not going to let something like that slip away.”
“You want to know an easy way to not be a thief,” Sam quipped, “stop stealing.”
Christel stepped closer to Sam. “It’s not that easy. It’s about my past. Someone like you wouldn’t understand.”
“Regardless,” Arlandra butted in, “it looks like we all want something from Garn Pallerii.”
“And I take it the person one of us is supposed to meet is somewhere up those stairs,” Sam added.
“So the first person to make it there gets what they want, right?”
Their swords swayed, pointing from one face to the other. It was a three-way duel of epic proportions – the assassin, the soldier, and the thief. Meanwhile the girls stood in a line, unable to help in any way. They were silent for a while, each waiting for the other to make a move.
“So it’s a race then,” said Arlandra.
Well at least no one has to die, Christel thought.
But then Sam pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Christel’s head. “I don’t have time to play by those rules.” There was contempt in his eyes. “Christel Saan, one and a half years you damn near ruined my reputation, and you deserve to pay for what you did… but I can’t kill you.” He moved his pistol and aimed it now at Arlandra. “This man however is a murderer…”561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnqEdqJioWA
“I prefer the term ‘assassin’.”
“… And I will not think twice before shooting him. However, I’d like to avoid killing anyone if I don’t have to. Christel, help me bring Arlandra down and then leave Garn to me, and I promise I will get you your freedom.”
“Sam you son of a bitch!” Arlandra yelled. “Fight fair, you bastard!”
Christel pondered this for a moment. “No. I don’t trust the military and I certainly don’t trust you.”
Sam looked at him for a while. “Very well,” he said, and then Christel saw the hammer of his revolver cock back.
“Stop!” Christel shouted as he dashed forward and knocked the gun out of Sam’s hand. He could have sworn the gun should have fired, but somehow he hit it before it did. And then, as the revolver scattered along the sandy floor, Sam punched Christel in the face and Arlandra started running. “Thanks,” he said as he hopped up the stairs, “I’ll see you at the top.”
Christel wiped the blood from his nose. “You asshole. I just saved your life.”
“I know,” he responded, “so we’re square now, right?”
You can forget about that three percent!
Sam left Christel and chased after Arlandra who was now darting up the stairs. “Arlandra, get back here!”
“No way man,” he replied. “Garn is mine.”
Christel was fast enough to catch up, but Arlandra and Sam were already well ahead. He grunted as he bolted up the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t trip. When he reached the ceiling he arrived at a room just as large as the last one. It was dimly lit – save for the strokes of sunlight that flowed through the widows, and beside the staircase that continued to stretch even higher was a maze of scaffolding and ropes.
With his sword ready Christel tried to slash at Sam’s back, just as Sam had caught the clothes around Arlandra’s shoulder. The assassin stumbled and the soldier had to turn around in order to parry Christel’s blow. With Sam currently occupied, Arlandra saw the chance to bring him down, however the soldier was ready and Arlandra received a heavy kick to the abdomen, after which he stumbled back and fell onto the scaffolding.
As Christel fought with Sam in a tinging series of strokes, parries and blows, he noticed Arlandra tampering with the ropes that suspended the bell at the top of the tower. The assassin swung his sword and hacked at the rope beneath him, whilst holding on tightly to the rope above.
“Oh no you don’t!” Christel shouted as he ducked past Sam and charged after Arlandra, however he feared that he might have been too late. The rope snapped and Christel saw as the assassin was propelled up into the air, but not after he had kicked off from a pole and leaped up to catch Arlandra’s foot.
He could feel himself soaring higher and higher as Arlandra’s leather boot gradually slipped under his fingers, and the bell that had been suspended flew past them as they were launched higher and higher. I have to hold on for just a little longer.
Then he heard the bell crash into the ground below him and smash into the level beneath that, and suddenly he was falling. I’m falling! He panicked.
He hit the ground sooner than he thought he would, in fact, he had only fallen no more than a meter. He sat up, sore and dazed as he glanced around the third level of the temple, peeking down to where the bell had fallen. This room was almost the same as the others, dusty stone and dimly lit.
He noticed Arlandra try to stand up but was too shaken from the fall, while he on the other hand had dropped his sword when he had decided to come along. When the assassin was on his feet again and moving, Christel didn’t think, he simply acted by leaping and tackling the assassin around the legs. Arlandra fell to the ground again, kicking Christel and shouting. “Let go of my boots! What are you, twelve? Let go!”
“I will be Ariana’s champion!” Christel yelled out.
“No, I’m going to be the one to bring down Garn!”
And then a terrible and overwhelmingly loud voice thundered through the temple floor in a way that shook the walls. “Silence!”
Both Arlandra and Christel stopped and didn’t move, and not a sound was heard until the clatter of Sam’s footsteps rang up the stairway and he appeared at the entrance to the room.
In the corner of the room where no sunlight could reach there was shuffle and a scraping sound, and then two burning yellow eyes opened and stared right through Christel. They appeared like snake eyes and they shimmered as if they were flames. And then the beast stepped out from the shadow and Christel’s heart went cold.
He saw brown leathery scales, yellow fangs and claws, spikes as sharp as spears, and wings that spread out like sails.
Christel tried to speak, but stuttered. “You… you’re a… a…”
…
“A dragon?” said the seductive voice of a woman behind them. It unmistakably belonged to Ariana, and the goddess of fate strolled behind them as she appeared from the nothingness.
The dragon towered above everyone in the room, stamping its massive meaty talons and digging its claws into the stone. Its scales were the murky brown colour of tree bark and its eyes were so bright that Christel could not look away. And then it opened it mouth and words began to come out. Its speech was loud and deep and slow. Each steamy breath that the dragon took could be heard between each phrase. “You… bicker and fight like children… yes… just like little… children.”
Ariana smiled, almost childlike as she glanced from the dragon to the three men in the room. “I’d like to introduce you to Korasuun. And yes, he’s a dragon.”
“I thought dragons were extinct?” Sam stuttered.561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡurlqGDf2xZ
“They seem surprised… to see me…” said Korasuun, the dragon. “I thought you had… told them.”
“Well, I didn’t want to scare them away now.” Ariana told the dragon.
Korasuun stood up high on his hind legs and looked down on the puny humans beneath him. “Yes, I am… a dragon… that is what your kind call me. And yes… I have not left this mountain… for a long… long… time. I have been waiting… yes… my brothers fled this land a thousand years ago… but I stayed… yes… I stayed and watched.”
Arlandra turned to Ariana. “You already knew what Garn had in mind, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, “well, kind of. It all goes back to an ancient battle. Seeing as that was a very long time ago, I wanted you to hear it from him first.” She gestured towards Korasuun.
Christel butted in. “But why? I mean you were there weren’t you.”
“Actually I wasn’t even born yet.” She shot them a cheeky smile and flicked at a strand of crimson black hair.
Everyone save for Korasuun was shocked by that.
“If there is something that you should learn about in this world,” Ariana continued, “it is that nothing lives forever, not even the gods. I am considered quite young for my age, and although I may live for another thousand years or so, I too will die eventually. It was the same for the goddess of fate before me. So you see, Korasuun here is the only creature that was actually alive when the war of the shemn occurred.”561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcBjGJGytkD
Wars, goddesses and dragons… Christel couldn’t believe what his life had come to. “What was the war of the shemn?” he asked.
“It all happened…” Korasuun started, “over a thousand years ago. Yes… before your kind roamed these lands there was… another… hmm… just like you. Yes… they were a simple folk… but foolish… yes… most of whom spent their entire lives in worship to what you call benezia… the source to all power.”
Korasuun slowly let his eyelids fall and he seemed to have finished. Christel thought he might have fallen asleep.
“Well,” Sam said, “what happened to them? Where did they go?”
“Oh… well yes… of course…” The dragon muttered as he sat up again. “Well they went to war with themselves… yes they did… and like all species that I’ve watched over the years they were the same… Something to do with… yes… not wanting to use the benezian for fear of its ultimate… power… yes… and, in the end one side lost… hmm… as with all wars… one always loses. They were driven deep into the mountains… they were… yes… and they believed that they could use the power of benezia to fight back… and win the war…”
Sam whispered something that Christen could just hear. “They fused it…”
“Why… yes…” Korasuun remarked slowly. “They were the only ones that I have seen… who were able to fuse their bodies with the power of benezia… Hmm… yes… but power corrupts… and from power… comes evil.”
“So what happened?” Christel asked.
“Why… they fought… against an enemy who was once their friends… but no more… they were no longer the creatures that they used to be… their bodies were… twisted… mutant and… vile… but formidable… yes… fearless… terrible… mindless…”
“But you defeated them, right?” asked Arlandra. “You did it before. You know how to stop them so we can do it again.”
“That is a question… I am afraid… I do not know the answer to,” replied Korasuun.
Christel stepped forward. “What do you mean you don’t know the answer to?”
“He means,” said Ariana, “that he was there when the shemn were defeated but he doesn’t know how it was done.”
“Hmm… yes… I remember it very well… the shemn fell back into the mountains… as if they had lost the will to fight… I don’t know what they did that day… but it worked… yes… yes it did…”
“But Garn hasn’t awakened them yet,” Christel started. “All we have to do is stop him before he does and we can avoid this war entirely.”
“Yeah, that’s easier said than done,” Sam remarked. “I don’t know if you’ve seen how he is lately, but he’s not exactly human anymore.”
Christel noticed a strange expression from Arlandra as Sam spoke those words, as if he had become quietly overwhelmed by fear.
“I am afraid…” said Korasuun, “that you are already… too late.”
So it’s started then, thought Christel, this war is really happening.
“I can… feel it… the shemn… have already been awakened… you’d best… prepare yourselves… for war…”
Ariana then caught their attention as if she were about to give them commands, which she practically did. “Over the next few days the shemn will probably be spreading out from the mountains and then after that, well, all hell is going to break loose through Noveria. I called each of you here intentionally because I know that you have what it takes to protect this land. Christel, you are the only person who can convince the djann, humans, and orcs to fight as one against the shemn. If they don’t then the shemn will simply take them out on by one. Sam, you can lead, and I know that you have what it takes to command an army against the shemn.” She turned finally to Arlandra. “And Arlandra, you are the only assassin in all of Noveria who can take Garn down for good.”
They looked at each other, three strangers now bonded through their will to protect.
“The fate of Noveria now rests in your hands, boys. Don’t let us down.”
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