Welcome to my mythological world — and my novel – a trilogy actually, about the Orbs Of The Dragon Kind. 7 mystical crystal orbs created by the ancient Wizard Council to end the destructive wars between the 7 different dragon species around the ancient world of Talenthor. I hope we see it on bookshelves …one day.
In Collusion with Dragons ©
Zavendril’s long thin body twisted in his over-sized chair. His sharp blue eyes gazed across the room to see what his youngest student was referring to. “Ah.” he said, rising from his seat near the fireplace. “You have come across my most precious possession, Arius.” His faded blue robe drifted across the floor of his cabin as he walked toward the book-case. “This was a gift given to an ancestor of mine, many ages ago.”
“Tell us Master. Please?” asked Leonar, as the other six members of the class eagerly agreed. Well all except Eric.
“Oh great, another wasted afternoon.” Eric sneered. “We are supposed to be learning the sciences and mathematics, Master. Not some meaningless legend filled with lies and unbelievable events.”
“Oh Eric, why don’t you just shut up!” Veiga retorted as she sat on a small stool to the right of Zavendril’s large chair. The young girl had been placed in the care of her Uncle after the death of her parents. It was her task to clean, cook and care for him as his own daughter would. In return, Zavendril allowed her to join his classes with the village boys.
Veiga had a natural gift of genius and the old wizard thought it best to personally monitor her progress. In this village however, girls were not permitted to be educated in the higher subjects. So Zavendril was consistently reminding her to sit quietly. But, not caring about the opinions of these boys or the threats from the village Elders, Veiga widely exhibited her vast knowledge and amazing genius every chance she could. “You see Eric, philosophy is just as important as the standard subjects. Without a proper balance, a little knowledge can be very dangerous. Isn’t that right, Uncle?” the young girl asked.
Zavendril smiled at his lovely niece as his slender fingers reached for the statue. He returned to his chair by the fire and slowly sat down by her side. “Yes my child, that is correct.” he said patting her left shoulder. He waited as the remaining students gathered around the fire and they listened to the grumbling of young Eric as he reluctantly joined the small circle.
“Every civilization, old and new, has it’s share of legends and tall tales, young Eric. They each tell of great battles, mysterious lands and wondrous treasures.” the old man explained. “In the beginning these exaggerated tales were an honest and true account of wars, wizards and other strange living creatures that met in battle or friendship. These simple stories are handed down through generation to generation and with time, a simple recount of a hunting trip becomes a larger than life legend. It is one of these simple stories that initiated the most terrifying invasion ever to sweep across the land of Talenthor.” Zavendril explained as he placed the dragon statue on the table next to his chair. Then the wizard settled back and began his story.
“Our tale begins in a small fishing village on the eastern coast of Talenthor. On a very dark spring night the King of Aqualean piloted a small boat out to the deepest point of the Atilian ocean. Confirming his location by the distant stars, King Tunnis lowered his sails and stood up in the tiny craft. He pulled out a glowing emerald orb from the leather pouch that hung on his side and held it over the ocean waters. He whispered a prayer of protection in an old elven tongue and then beckoned the sea dragons to come forth. Slowly the eternal glowing light inside the orb intensified until a bright hazel ray pierced threw the surface of the dark waters. It penetrated down into the depths until it reached the sandy bottom.
Within minutes the ocean began to boil and a burning fire surrounded the small craft, sending flickering red and orange flames into the night. The churning waters rocked the Kings boat until Tunnis fell to his knees. He reached for the mast and clutched it tightly so he wouldn’t be thrown overboard. Suddenly the dragons burst through the surface of the water and flew into the air splashing waves of the sea into the boat.
Tunnis wiped the salty water from his face and looked up. The orb he held in his hand was pulsating brightly, lighting the darkness around him. Hovering over the water, Tunnis saw six large dragons. Each one was a beautiful shade of sea green, but they all had separate brightly colored bellies. In a sign of anger their pointed ears were lying flat against their heads and their long necks were arched and poised for battle. As Tunnis began to gather himself he noticed the eerie reddish glow shining out from behind their huge eyes. He watched their long green faces as the hissing sounds of steamy air escaped into the night from the dragons nostrils. As the creatures gently flapped their massive wings, little droplets of water rained back into the dark ocean.
The sea creatures were so close to the King that Tunnis could feel their hot breath drifting past his neck. He noticed that the largest of the dragons wore a strangely shaped golden crown. In the glowing light, the crown sparkled with diamonds and emeralds set in its unusual design.
With his heart racing in his chest and pounding in his ears, Tunnis stood up. He carefully balanced himself against the strong rocky waves and faced the dragon king. Tunnis took in a deep breath and looked right into the eyes of Seagon the Lord of the Sea Dragons. He told the creature of a vast treasure hidden in the Troll caves of the Lapis mountains, west of his village. He laid out his plan to steal the treasure with the help of Seagon and his guards. Then, the tiny king explained how the sea dragons and his modest village would share this wondrous prize. The Dragon Lord listened intently to the simple plans of this human and after some thought he agreed to the deal. Seagon turned his back and carefully laid his long tail across the bow of the small boat. Tunnis climbed up the dragon’s back and sat on Seagon’s shoulders, holding on tightly as they all flew west to the Troll mountains.
Tunnis was frightened as the large creatures climbed high into the dark sky. Within moments he saw the small shimmering lights of his village far below. With the bright moon beaming over his shoulder, he watched the land rise and fall as they passed over the Aqualean farms to the foot hills of the Crystean mountains. They soon passed over the mountain range and were flying toward the green Valley of Tana with the western mountains of Lapis in sight. As they approached the far green hills Seagon slowly lead the assent to the ridge that hid the entrance to underground caves and caverns. Seeing the Trolls milling about outside, the dragons increased their speed and dove swiftly towards their prey.
The Trolls saw the beasts soaring down from the sky. They hastily scattered, running deep into the caves to escape Seagon’s fiery hot breath. The mountain forest was set ablaze, while the Dragon Lord and two of his sea guards entered the tunnels and scorched the doomed Trolls as they fled. The dragons searched the inside of the mountain for the vast treasure they had been told of, encountering only a few remaining Trolls who thought they could conquer the large invaders. But these mindless beasts were no match for Seagon and soon all the Trolls were killed or had fled deeper into the endless mountain tunnels. With the small threat gone, Seagon took to the task of finding his promised reward. Their keen sense of smell and sight enabled the dragons to discover the numerous chests of gold, silver and sparkling gems very quickly.
King Tunnis had been left in the entrance of the cave as Seagon began to battle the trolls. As he waited for victory, Tunnis gathered a few tapestries from the main cavern and laid them out for the dragons to place their glittering catch upon. When one was full, he folded the decorative cloth around the treasure and tightly tied the bundle for the return journey. Taking as much as they could carry, the dragons clasped the ropes in their claws and dragged their prize out of the cave. Tunnis climbed onto Seagon’s back and once again went flying off into the night.
It wasn’t long before they returned to the open water of their ocean home. Seagon gently placed Tunnis and his share of the treasure in the small fishing boat. But the load was so heavy it almost sunk the tiny vessel. The Dragon Lord commanded one of his guards to swim under the craft, holding it above water so Tunnis could return safely to his village.
When the sun arose the next morning, the people of Aqualean found Tunnis pulling his large sacks onto the dock. The village fisherman ran to his aid not knowing what he had caught, but eager to lend a hand. They pulled three bundles off his boat and then waited with anticipation for their King to open his strange nets.
Tunnis stood on a small wooden crate and recanted his night’s adventure. When some of his subjects doubted his tale he ordered his guards to cut open one of the bundles and divide its contents amongst his people. The two remaining sacks were to be carried to the village treasury where his ministers could count and catalog his prize. Tunnis stayed on his perch long enough for a few bows and cheers, then he retired to his palace for a well deserved sleep.” the wizard concluded.
Zavendril sat back in his seat and sipped from a silver cup of wine. The children eagerly awaited the conclusion of the fable. But Zavendril simply sighed, closed his eyes and rested his head against the tall back of his chair. Surprised, the children glanced at one another, wondering if their Master had finished the tale.
Enthralled by the legend, Eric leaned forward in his small wooden chair. “Master? Master Zavendril?” he asked quietly.
“Yes Eric.” the wizard replied, raising his head upright.
“Master, what happened to the remaining sacks of treasure?” he asked as the other children nodded in agreement with his question.
Amused by Eric’s sudden interest, Zavendril smiled and concluded the tale. “It’s said that when King Tunnis awoke, he held a meeting with the seven members of the village council. After a great debate, they decided the treasure should be hidden in the coral tunnels beneath the King’s palace instead of left in the village treasury. This would foil any plans by their enemies to steal the fortune, yet keeping the silver and gold close at hand for an emergency. From this day on, Tunnis knew his people would want for nothing and that the future of his small kingdom was now secure.
The description and size of the King’s adventure has grown each time it’s recanted. The treasure stored in the Aqualean caverns also grew to be the richest in all of Talenthor.” Zavendril explained. “The battle that ensued between the dragons and the trolls has become increasingly gruesome and brutal. And the power that Tunnis held over the sea dragons with his glowing orb has escalated to illustrious proportions. Soon the exaggerated tale spread across the land and the small village of Aqualean became known by all who traveled the land. At the time of Tunnis and his first successors, the story had become so infamous that merchant ships carried the tale across the Atilian Ocean to the black land of Kilamar and beyond.
Is it no wonder then, that Lanthor, son of Wolthor, King of Kilamar took a sudden interest in this small fishing village. Even in this early time, young Prince Lanthor was a very evil and powerful wizard. He believed that there was much truth hidden in every legend, even though his father did not.”
As Zavendril completed his tale, he looked into the young faces that surrounded him. All the children, including Eric, sat mesmerized to the old teacher’s every word and movement. He imagined the images the children were concocting in their heads and a quick chill of his own memories traveled up Zavendril’s spine.
“When the news of the Aqualean treasure reached his ears,” the teacher continued, “Lanthor began his plans, on paper at least, to mass the Kilamarian armies, assemble its ships and travel across the Atilian ocean toward the small village. All he had to do was wait for his father’s death and the rightful succession to the Kilamar throne. Lanthor would then be crowned as the Dark Lord of Otharian and he would be able to put his evil plans into motion. Nothing nor no one would be able to stop his evil destruction.” Zavendril concluded with a heavy and solemn tone. The old teacher bowed his head, closed his eyes and would say no more of those evil days long since gone.
© 1997-2014 Springwolf, D.D., Ph.D., Springwolf’s Creations. All Rights Reserved.