Michael Mathias - The Sword and the Dragon

“My father once told me to be careful of what I wish for, because I just might get it,” Hyden spoke kindly.

“Jussst so,” Claret agreed, with a nod of her big horned head.

She then started back into the story about the huge blue dragon, named Cobalt, and the pirate who had stolen his hoard. The reason she told that particular story wasn’t lost on Hyden. The silver skull, which the pirate had stashed in the hold of his ship, could be used to cross between the earthly plane and darker places, like the Nethers.

Hyden listened intently, and the troubles of his heart, and mind, were soon lost to the excitement of the clever pirate’s many ways of eluding the dragon and the kingdom ships that were endlessly after him, and of the dragon’s dogged persistence in retrieving his treasures.

When the telling was done, Hyden grew excited and sad in equal measure. He couldn’t wait to get back to tell Vaegon and Mikahl about Claret. And the bond between him, and the hawkling was stretched so thin that it almost hurt. He was sad though, because he would miss Claret. The dragon was a powerful force to be close to. Next to her, he felt safe, and indestructible. He would miss her, there was no doubt.

There was still the great flight back to Xwarda though, and since there wasn’t any hurry, Hyden hoped that he could get another story or two out of her. He knew that she would leave this part of the world, and go far away to hatch her remaining egg. He didn’t blame her for it. He was starting to see how even the most civilized of humans were barbaric in nature. If he were her, he would get as far away from mankind as the limits of the world would allow. She had promised to come if he called her. That would have to be enough.

The sky was cloudy, and a light chilly drizzle was falling on Xwarda, when the terrified cries of “Dragon! Dragon in the sky!” rang through the streets.

Word spread through the castle, like a plague, and Mikahl wasted no time joining Queen Willa and King Jarrek on the long climb up the spiral stairs to the top of the Royal Tower.

Mikahl hadn’t taken the time to grab up Ironspike, and was the worse for it by the time he reached the top.

Dugak was watching over the blade for him. Mikahl’s injuries were far from healed, and without the sword to fortify him, his breath came in ragged, noisy gasps, and his muscles burned, and ached. His spirit was lifted above his pain though, by the prospect of seeing Hyden Hawk again.

By the time Mikahl reached the rooftop, Claret had gone, but Hyden Hawk was there to greet him, with an overwhelmingly fierce hug.

As they embraced, Talon fluttered around them excitedly. When they stepped apart, Hyden noticed that the elf wasn’t there. He took Mikahl by the shoulders, and was crushed by the sadness he saw in his friend’s eyes.

“What of Vaegon?” Hyden Hawk’s words came out in a fog of breath.

The icy rain had slackened, but there was no summer sun left in the sky to burn away the clouds, or to warm the chill air. Fall was beginning to set in, and winter was close on its heels.

“He died fighting alongside the men on the wall.” Queen Willa spoke softly from her huddle of cloaks, saving Mikahl from having to speak the words.

“His body is in a casket in the Preserver’s Hall,” added Mikahl, with a sniffle. “I want us to take him home together.”

“Aye.” Hyden brushed away his own tears, and extended a wrist, so that Talon could land. “What of the demon-wizard? Did you take him?”

“Aye,” Mikahl answered. He sniffled again, and this time, he didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. “His head is rotting in its very own dungeon cell. His body is in a separate one. What of the wench who invaded my father’s kingdom?”

It was a hard thing to do what Hyden Hawk did then, but his friend deserved nothing less than the truth of the matter. He explained what he did, and why he did it as well. Mikahl didn’t like it, but he tried to understand Hyden’s perspective. It made him think about his own brother.

“I wonder what happened to Prince Glendar?” he asked, letting Hyden off the hook. As they made their way down the stairs, and out of the weather, King Jarrek came up with several clever possibilities that could have been Glendar’s fate.

The sadness over the loss of life, and the uncertainty of the future, hung heavily in the air over the group, but before they even reached the bottom of the long stairway, Jarrek had suggested a course of action that appealed to Mikahl. Queen Willa added the beginnings of a scheme of her own, to gain the aid of Queen Rachel, and possibly cowardly King Broderick. A lot had been lost and destroyed by Pael’s dark ambition, but hope it seemed was still abundant.

The people of Wildermont were still being held as slaves in Dakahn, but now there was hope for them. The dragon-less Dragon Queen’s lizard men and Breed beasts, still occupied Westland as well. There was a lot to be done. A tentative plan was formed, but only so much could be done before winter set in. Amazingly, not a single one of them wasted more than a moment before they started getting to it.

The returning of Vaegon to his people in the Evermore Forest went badly.

The long, four day trek from Xwarda, deep into the woods, had been ripe with the hope of the elves coming to the aid of the decimated human populations. The craftsmanship and skill of the elven builders and artisans had once helped raise the great city from the Wardstone foundation below. Side by side, elves, dwarves and men had created the wonder that was Xwarda. The hope that the elves would come to their aid was spurred on by words Vaegon had written in his journal. High King Mikahl had read them to the people of Xwarda at a ceremony before the trip to the Evermore began.

The elf had praised the ways of the men he had befriended, and appealed to his own people to try and rebuild the bridge that spanned the gulf between the two races. The elves of the Evermore, however, had no desire to even acknowledge the fact that the humans had come back to their forest. It didn’t matter to them, that Vaegon Willowbrow had given his life to thwart Pael’s evil. Nor did it matter that his remains, or what was left of them, were in the casket that the humans had borne.

For seven days, Mikahl and Hyden sat in the forest with the casket. Hyden could see the elves around them. Looking through Talon’s eyes, his sight was akin to elven vision, and it allowed him to see them moving like wraiths through the forest. They didn’t want to be seen though. After Mikahl learned that the elves knew that they were there, he sent the escort of honor guard who had carried Vaegon’s body, back to Xwarda. His hope was that the elves were not showing themselves because of all the people.

That had been on the second day. Now, five days later, the elves still watched them from a distance. Talon flew among them, getting their attention, so that Mikahl, or Hyden, could call out to them, and explain why they were there. They shouted out that Vaegon had died a hero, fighting to save the world from demon kind. They explained that the elf had often spoken of his love for his people in this forest. Mikahl eventually called them all cowards for not having the fortitude to show themselves.

Finally, Dieter Willowbrow, Vaegon’s younger brother, responded from the trees.

“Leave this place, and leave my brother when you go!” his voice was thick with emotion. He was torn between his love for his brother, and his duty to his stubborn, and closed-minded Elders.

“We won’t leave, until we know that our friend’s body is in the hands of those who would honor him,” Mikahl responded angrily.

“Dieter!” Hyden Hawk called out. “Vaegon asked me once to give you his journal if anything happened to him. I’ll not leave until it’s in your hands.”