Chapters3-5
Chapters 3-5
THE COUNCIL
The Drakien Council serves to protect not only Castargan but other worlds as well. Castargan is now under the virtuous dominion of Tarilaous, the absolute master dragon of the realm and the leader of the Drakien Council of Seven Dragons whose names are:________. Tarilaous lived ten thousand years. He has protected the magic crystal and kept the universal order of the realm since the day his father’s reign came to an end. He is wise beyond his ten thousand years because he diligently sought and followed his father’s wisdom. He continuously acquires knowledge from all the righteous that pass his way. His cave holds the largest assortment of great books and scrolls next to Saros the Great Wizard. He listens attentively and emanates wisdom in a subtle manner. Tarilaous is not an arrogant dragon; he is instead modest and lives vigilantly in Castargan. Every dragon in the realm reveres him. His emerald green eyes see all. He watches judiciously over Castargan and the quartz crystal that he was given to protect. Tarilaous is the swiftest in flight and the only dragon that can change his colour and shape to match his surroundings. He is also the only dragon that can transform his five hundred muscular pounds from his magnificent height of ten feet to a meagre pound and minuscule four inches. INTRO SON Shape shifting is an inherited trait that his son has shown no ability for. His magisterial wings span outwards to the breadth of twenty feet. His tough armour boasts silver scales sparkling like gemstones. Claws on his four muscular legs are like those of an eagle.
No one understands the commencement of evil. Evil appears as a small insignificant seed and grows into something more terrifying than the imagination can comprehend. It is so with Ramsor. SON OF Malevolence sprouts in his heart and like a plague of foul infection it festers in his soul. His contemplation of being master consumes him. Once green eyes have now turned red like flaming coals. They sink deeply underneath his brow and emit a terrible ruthless stare. His sickly green scales lost their sheen and his gait is agitated. Powerful wings cling next to his burley chest in an unconscious effort to conceal a diabolic plan. He no longer resembles the dragon that he was. Sequeller has promised him that once he obtains the crystal and places it in her hand he will become ruler of Castargan and every dragon that exists therein. Once he becomes master ruler, he will find his way through the portal and govern all the worlds.
The lineage of Drakasor has always sat at the right hand of the sovereign. When one does not understand the evolution of evil or evil itself, how does one defeat it? Ramsor’s father, Drakasor, suspects that something iniquitous moves in the heart of Ramsor. Is intuition that distressing feeling that intensifies in the pit of the belly that can not be explained? Is it the grappling that goes on in the mind when that feeling tries to come forward but is pressed back into the unconscious? Drakasor watched his son enter the abhorrent dessert wastelands of Haygar; a place prohibited to all dragons of the realm. Somewhere inside each of us is that small voice that warns us, and yet, that same small voice pushes insight into obscurity time and time again. But it is that same small voice that convinces Drakasor to consult Tarilaous on this matter the night before his impending death. Drakasor has difficulty explaining this distress to Tarilaous. How does one explain what one does not understand? Drakasor speaks from his heart and tries to explain his observations and those mysterious little inklings that pursue with relentless nudging. When he is finished Tarilaous bids him leave to the outer chamber and wait his word.
Tarilaous contemplates solemnly on the matter. He considers Ramsor as a young dragon and somewhere deep within he is also aware of some peculiar distress. An icy shiver runs through Tarilaous; he can feel the shroud of darkness. Alarm takes a claw like grasp to his heart. In his mind’s eye he follows Ramsor from a youngster to his dragon hood. The only thing that Tarilaous knows for sure: Ramsor is not the same. His appearance changed gradually over time; so gradual, in fact, that no one really noticed the change.
Tarilaous sombrely reminisces about the day his beloved father passed the quartz crystal to him. He recollects his father’s words as the crystal and the amulet were passed to his hand: “Son, the realm is yours to rule with a pure and judicious heart. Beware the prophecy: When darkness begins to fall over the realm, a star shall collapse and bring forth a powerful warrior from a kingdom not of this realm. Teach this warrior from the book of wisdom and take this warrior to the wizard to learn the powers. Do not fear the darkness; remain steadfast in your courage. In your heart you will know the time to call the great council meeting and there will be one among dragons who will not be called to attend.” With that said his father’s spirit left. Tarilaous holds the amulet tightly and studies it. A bronze chain holds the star shaped amulet where stones of sapphire are set in each point and one larger one in the centre. Tarilaous whispers to the amulet, “Father, my pledge is to keep the realm from harm.”
Tarilaous summons Drakasor to his side. His emerald eyes look into the soul of his trusted friend, “Call the council together. Bid them make haste in silence. Breathe not a word to Ramsor.” Drakasor nods and goes his course bearing a heavy heart but he understands what must be done.
In the meantime, Ramsor takes to the sky and flies to the dessert wastelands of Haygar to see Sequeller, the sorceress whose heart is as stone. Thousands of years ago Sequeller was banished to the outland when she fought against her sister Porcella.
Porcella reveres the hawk Aracalis whose towering perch sits high in the grounds that surround her castle in the land of Nastgarteran. From there Aracalis observes the entire realm. His visual acuity and precise aim is impeccable. His powerful feet and curved razor sharp talons can cut his prey in half. Aracalis keeps a cautious eye on Ramsor’s flight, while Sequeller develops her plans to acquire the magic quartz crystal.
Deep inside Mount Asbranasan The Council of seven gathers in chamber. Candles illuminate the amethyst. At particular positions in the passageways, where the candles luminous light reveal transparency, you can see right through the amethyst. The council chamber is filled with lustrous burning candles set on the naturally formed shelves. Dragons sit around an elongated table carved out of hematite and the council chamber is filled with their anxious rumblings as they speculate why they were called out at this hour. They question one to another, “Why was Ramsor not summoned to attend? Why the secrecy? The council has not been summoned since Sequeller was sent into isolation.” Silence permeates the room as Tarilaous enters and takes his rightful seat at the head of the table. Tarilaous sits in silence for a moment and everyone can see he is troubled but they wait. His eyes slowly move around the room and stop momentarily at the amethyst wall on the right. He considers the decorated tomb of Caedamon. By Sequeller’s hand he died a martyr’s death and by such great sacrifice he left his motherless son, Adalamon, to double tears. Evil flourishes in darkness and casts its affliction without conscience, yet, it is defended just the same as goodness.
“My reign is coming to its end and the time of darkness has fallen upon us. Prophecy is being fulfilled. My son Garilaous who is the next rightful ruler of the realm has studied diligently, yet he cannot fly. He has been trained in the art of breathing fire, yet he cannot emit fire. I fear that unless he accomplishes his responsibilities the realm of Castargan will be in terrible danger.”
A moment’s breath held is like suffocation in the heavy air. Each believes the other can hear and feel the rapid palpitations of their heart. It is this moment, this one brief moment, when you know the worse fear has finally come to pass, which holds that abyss of time.
Bragolous breaks the silence, “Garilaous must seek out the Wizard! Send him on his way tonight in the coming of the waxing moon. Garilaous studies diligently and will prove his claim to the throne. He conducts his studies with heart and determination. Garilaous will reveal himself and take your place as absolute master. He will overcome the perils that await him.”
“Why?” Dargellous roars in return, “Ramsor has made noble efforts in his training of dragon hood. He can swiftly fly! He can blow fire the length of the chambers! Let him be master ruler or we may end up with no ruler at all. Choose Ramsor! Choose now!”
Some of the council claws at the table in agreement with Dragellous. “Yes, choose now!”
Tarilaous draws on his wisdom and shows no favouritism towards his son. “Ramsor has proven his strength. He is a mighty dragon but the decision must be unquestionable.”
Bragolous then speaks again, “Garilaous must be given the opportunity to take his rightful place. We cannot act in haste! What say you Drakasor, father of Ramsor?”
Drakasor whispers into the silence, “He is my son, do not ask me to speak against him.”
Silence takes hold like a heavy black cloud in a still sky. The question on everyone’s mind is, “What does he mean, do not ask me to speak against him?”
“Most noble dragons of the council; let us adjourn this meeting and meet again on the morrow. Go home, my friends and think on this,” Tarilaous implores.
Suddenly, uproar festers in the council chamber. “This has never happened before! We have never left without coming to a decision in chamber!”
Suddenly, without warning, Tarilaous rises to his immense height and lets out a formidable roar, “Be cautious, my friends! Never have we chosen an absolute master! Sovereign leadership has been passed through my lineage for generations. My son is not yet ready to have the amulet passed to him, nor is he ready to guard the quartz crystal. Prophecy has begun. Our decision must not bring the demise of Castargan. We will vote on the morrow. Go home my friends and think conscientiously of your conclusion. The morrow is not far off and truth is adjacent to light.”
“Yes, till the morrow,” Bragolous agrees.
All the council claws the table in agreement. On the morrow they will decide to allow Garilaous to seek out the wizard and prove his right to master dragonship or they will choose a new master dragon.
Of course, there are those who believe Ramsor should have been chosen that night.
THE MEETING
Haygar was not always a decomposed wasteland: Sequeller’s wickedness made it so. Dust blows when there is no wind in this uninhabitable expanse of parched and unfertile wilderness. Volcanoes spew out sweltering steam. The foul odour of sulphur fills the stagnant air. Deathlike silence hangs over Haygar except for the hissing of the dust snakes and the sounds of girans tearing flesh with their razor-like beaks. Those that lived here have long since left. Those that dare to enter rarely leave. Only the dwarfs and girans remain. Girans perch impatiently upon the barren fractured trees and await their carrion. Malicious dwarfs live in the dark tunnels of Haygar. Their small limbs deceive for they are physically powerful. They work in the tunnels at Sequeller’s bidding for she has pledged that if they serve her she will hand over the underworld reign to them alone. The dwarfs desire nothing more than to reach the cavern of Luned where they will regulate the water and bring even Sequeller under their rule.
Witches possess powerful magic and Sequeller’s spitefulness and ravenousness desire to be high priestess is not to be reckoned with. She practices her sadistic and rancorous sorcery night and day becoming increasingly forceful and potent.
The putrid smell of Haygar fills Ramsor’s enormous nostrils. He cringes at the loathsome sight of Sequeller who becomes more tyrannous and repulsive with every spell she casts. Her face is covered with repugnant warts, while hair like wire that has been let to rust drops uncombed around it. Her overpowering, lifeless, yellow eyes look intently at Ramsor from under her death black robe. Teeth like charcoal remnants shatter against her piercing voice.
“Well, what report have you brought me Ramsor? Tonight the council meets in your absence. Garilaous must not succeed. You, Ramsor must become master dragon. Tell me now how my incantation affects Garilaous!”
“Garilaous is without flight and fire. I am advanced in my skilfulness and more physically powerful than he. He yields to my power while we prepare for dragon hood and before long all will yield to my presence!”
“You fool! Do not assume you have won the sovereign! The council decides on the morrow if Garilaous will be given the right to prove his place as master dragon of if they will choose you as master. Six members of the council will vote. Tarilaous will not cast his vote because it would be his son he votes for. He will abstain in order to prove his justness as master dragon. That leaves Bragolous, Dargellous, Pyrosor, Trepasor, Condrator, and your father, Drakasor. Your father spoke against you Ramsor, yet Dargellous, Trepasor, and Tarilaous cry for you to be master because of your power. They fear that Garilaous will not succeed because he is weak. Your father must not betray you further Ramsor. Take this vial with you and put three drops into Drakasor’s wine tonight. He will sleep until the vote is cast. Once the vote is cast you must slay Garilaous while he is on his quest. The vote will increase your power within the realm but ....
Garilaous will still seek out the wizard and if he succeeds the wizard will try to break my spell. Take those that make their vote with you. Use their powers to aid in your battle. Go now! ”
Ramsor avariciously clasps the vial from Sequeller and without delay takes flight.
Aracalis who is keeping Ramsor under scrupulous surveillance espies the vial. He knows all too well Sequeller’s demonic deeds. He watches as she performs diabolical spells on those that dare to enter Haygar. Aracalis lets out a forewarning scream that echoes throughout the entire realm as he flies to Porcella’s side.
THE INVOCATION
Ascending high above the sylvan woods, where the footpath branches out from the main road and crosses over the stone arched bridge, just a brief distance away, is the watchtower. Its sandstone bricks were quarried and mortared together by Caedamon’s followers after his death. Four arched windows surround an arcaded balcony to allot a full view in all four directions. In the courtyard, a pebble-lined fountain spouts spring water from a stone bowl which overflows into a larger bowl which in turn spills into a collection pool. A golden spiral pathway of yellow quartzite frames the fountain. The quartzite shimmers when the sun strikes it just right. Within this spiral, Porcella contemplates all her important decisions.
Circle of decision or decision circle??
The grounds slope gently downwards to the Rianah River whose reflections give off a soft silver sheen amongst overhanging boughs of strong ash, burly beech and, yellow birch that bestow a tender scent of wintergreen along the river. The woods alongside the river are carpeted with lilac veined flowers of wood sorrel poking through its clover shaped leaves and celandines with their vivid yellow flowers and heart shaped leaves. Blue bells nod their heads and send out a delicate hyacinth fragrance. Hiding under the trees, flower stalks of primroses shoot up from ground-hugging rosettes of thick green leaves and boldly shout their valiant yellows, reds, pinks and blues. Honeysuckles with their sweetly-scented, bell-shaped flowers produce sweet, edible nectar for the birds whose songs fill the air with profound existence.
Due north of the tower is where the crucial conflict terminated Caedamon’s life. Hearing of the stolen crystal, Caedamon gathered all his men unto battle. He knew if Sequeller discovered the portal, she would rule the universe and bring its demise. He lay in wait in the Edbyrga woodlands until she passed through. The armies fought one against the other with tremendous losses for both sides. Sequeller fought against Caedamon sword to sword. Caedamon managed in one brief moment to knock Sequeller to the ground and grab the crystal from her grasp. Her eyes locked on the crystal briefly, but it was enough to discover that the crystal held the key to the portal. Caedamon turned quickly to his mount knowing that he could not conquer Sequeller on that day. His only chance was to escape and shield the crystal and return it to its rightful place. Sequeller’s shrieking caused all Caedamon’s men to stop in terror as she summoned the powers of hell. She lifted her arms upward and with one thrust they came down and directed a vicious bolt of energy towards his heart. Caedamon fell forwards as he felt the intense strike squeezing his heart. He would not permit death to fail him as his horse carried him like the wind to Mt Abranasan. As he passed the crystal to Tarilaous’s father his breath left him.
Inside the tower, Porcella’s blonde shinning tresses flow gracefully down her back to the floor. Blue eyes shine like the river Rianah when the sun sparkles in her mirror. A sapphire robe with silver star-like sequins drapes loosely around her body and reflects a prism-like glow through the watchtower. In front of her is a large water-filled vessel carved out of malachite. Porcella holds out her right arm for Aracalis. “Aracalis, my Friend, you cried a frightful warning. What is it you have seen that makes you cry? Come, Aracalis, let me see through your eyes.”
Porcella sits Aracalis gently on the edge of the vessel. The only way for her to understand is to see through the eyes of her hawk. They stare into the water-filled vessel and together enter a trance. Falling into the trance, the sensation of being pulled under the water into its great depths takes full hold. Porcella soars at the side of Aracalis and watches devastation take hold over Haygar as Sequeller casts her vile spells. Porcella watches Sequeller hand a vial to Ramsor. While Garilaous sleeps Ramsor places the potion upon him to suppress his abilities of flight and fire. She watches Ramsor take flight to Castargan. Tears flow from Porcella’s eyes as she lets out a lament of terrible sadness. With the woeful sound of lament the malachite vessel breaks and Porcella and Aracalis withdraw from their trance.
Porcella picks up a large piece of the malachite and places it on her altar. Each in turn, she invokes the powers from the air, water, fire, and earth. Then each in turn again, she faces East, West, North, and south and calls upon their powers to be released into her hands. She raises her hands skywards and summons prophecy into fulfillment:
Courage in battle
Strength of the will
Help Garilaous
His right to fulfill
Powers of light
There through the portal
As prophecy told
Lead here the mortal
Give her the sword
That ne’er shall break
Keep safe her home
On Sapheria Lake
Give her the book
Make great her skill
To help Garilaous
His right to fulfill
As Porcella calls her last word, bursts of energy like lightening flash upon the stone. Porcella picks up two pieces of the stone and hands it to Aracalis.
“Take this to Garilaous. Tell him to forge two amulets out of silver and place the stones therein. He is to wear one around his neck and the other you will place with the prophesied one. When the prophesied one comes and the time is at hand she will unite with Garilaous to search out the crystal. Through these amulets they will know that they are the ones to unite in the perilous journey. The stone is all that I can offer them. The great wizard Saros will teach Garilaous courage and self-will. Garilaous must fulfill his right without magical powers and the mortal must be kept from harm until she studies the book.”
Aracalis grasps the stones in his claws and soars outward into the night sky. Meanwhile, in Castargan, many rumours are spread about the council’s decision to wait until the morrow before concluding the vote for master dragon. In households, wives join in discussion. Children play games of Ramsor defeating Garilaous. Ramsor is becoming their champion. No one knows of the evil spell cast on Garilaous and neither do they know of Ramsor’s sinister scheme. The only thing they know is Garilaous is powerless and a powerless dragon cannot be master dragon!
***More blood sweat and tears to come****
Written by Beverley Woznica
