Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

The creature opened his jaws and the great fangs drew closer to Aidan, but suddenly something slammed into the Wyrm Lord, lifting him from his feet and sending him crashing onto his back. And there, to Aidan’s astonishment, grappling fiercely with the Wyrm Lord, was Falon.

And Falon’s vengeance was terrible. She clawed at the wyrm with many sets of her limbs. The talons tore scales free and rent the dragon’s flesh. She coiled her badly burned body around the Wyrm Lord’s torso and began to constrict.

But the element of surprise lasted only a moment. The firstborn dragon spread his great wings and lifted himself and Falon from the ground. Then he let himself come crashing to the ground, the brunt of the impact on Falon’s coils. Aidan heard the mortiwraith roar in pain, and part of her coils came free from the Wyrm Lord’s body and dangled limply. Falon was losing.

Aidan watched in horror as Falon tore herself from the Wyrm Lord’s grasp and slithered up the length of the dragon’s neck. She grabbed the Wyrm Lord’s jaws with five pairs of her talons and began to wrench the creature’s mouth open. She let one segment of her serpentine body fall into the jaws of the dragon, and coiled the rest of her dying body around his neck and head.

The Wyrm Lord clawed and scratched. He had to get Falon out of his mouth, or he would choke to death. For a brief moment Falon’s eyes met Aidan’s, and Aidan understood: It was Falon’s only way of ensuring victory over the dragon.

The firstborn dragon bit down with all the crushing power his jaws could manage. Falon shrieked and fell limp. No longer constricted, the Wyrm Lord threw the mortiwraith down and roared. Dark blood dripped from his mouth. Then, the triumphant dragon took flight, only to quickly fall to the ground screeching in agony and clawing at the sky. With one final shriek, the Wyrm Lord moved no more.

A group of no less than twelve heavily armed Paragor Knights dragged Aidan through the wreckage en route to the castle. As Aidan was pulled into Alleble, his hope was shattered by what he saw: The thoroughfare of Alleble, once grand and sparkling, was now littered with the dead. The steady, peaceful rush of the fountains was destroyed by shrill cries from the wounded and the weeping of those who mourned. Several of the fountains ran red.

Fires burned out of control, engulfing blocks of Glimpse homes in flames. At least four of the Seven Sleepers still remained, and they rampaged unchecked, smashing into cottages, killing the families within for food or for sport. Alleble’s once proud standing army had been reduced to pockets of resistance presently being surrounded by Paragor’s forces. Smoke rose from the parapets of the Castle of Alleble, and Paragor’s forces roamed freely upon its battlements.

“Lord Rucifel found where they were all hidden away,” one of the knights whispered to another. “There are catacombs beneath the castle-crammed full of women and children!”

“Really?” said another. He whistled. “What is the master going to do with them all?”

The first knight laughed. “Those who know what is good for them will see things our way! The others are to be burned, I expect… or fed to the wolves!”

“Let that be a warning to you!” One of the knights smacked Aidan on the back of the head. “When you get your chance, join the victorious army!”

“He is already dressed for the part!” chided another. They laughed raucously. Aidan’s head flopped to the side, and he saw the world of horrors.

As they passed the second fountain, Aidan’s eyes met just for a moment with the dead eyes of a soldier of Alleble. He was draped awkwardly over the fountain pool wall, his pale face streaked with blood. Aidan blinked and looked away. It was Kindle. Aidan saw one more thing before the enemy dragged him into the Castle of Alleble. It was the last fountain, dry and empty.

They took Aidan to a cell beneath Guard’s Keep. There was a heavy clank as a bolt slid free, and they shoved Aidan into the dark cell. He sprawled facedown, pushed himself up with his left hand, and then flopped onto his back. His right wrist was on fire, his body ached, and his thoughts were dark and dreary like the cell. He reached suddenly under his armor. The scrap of the Scroll of Prophecy was still there. It was the only hope Aidan had left.

The Paragor Knights had scoured the catacombs beneath the Castle of Alleble. But not carefully enough.

Kaliam and Lady Merewen crept stealthily through a chamber door, but froze when they heard a scraping sound. “Faethon?” Kaliam whispered.

“No,” a voice came from the shadows. “It is Naysmithe. This way.”

Kaliam and Lady Merewen followed the sound of his voice down a long, dimly lit corridor and eventually came face-to-face with the second Sentinel of the land. “Follow me,” he said. And he led them through twists and turns of stone that they had not traveled before. They came at last to a place where the passage seemed to end. Naysmithe ran his hand along a seam in the stone. They heard a faint click, and then the wall swung inward as if on a hinge. Naysmithe shut the hidden door behind them and said, “Wait here.”

Kaliam and Lady Merewen were left in the dark, but Naysmithe returned with a candle and led them farther inside. They found a small dusty room with a tower of square wooden shelves, each filled with piles of scrolls. There was an austere wooden desk adorned with only a quill pen and a dark bottle of ink. There was also a bench that drew the eye because upon it was the only thing in the room not covered in dust or cobwebs. There lay an intricate tapes-try of Alleble’s seal, the sun rising between the peaks of Pennath Ador. But it was clearly covering something… something longish with unusual humps at either end.

“You were looking for the mortiwraith?” Naysmithe asked, raising a dark eyebrow flecked with gray. “He is yet undiscovered.”

“Good, yes!” said Kaliam. “We need him to help us. The Three Witnesses, Aidan, Antoinette, and Robby, are captured and-”

“And awaiting trial before Paragor,” Naysmithe finished the sentence. “Yes, I know of Paragor’s plans. It is all his servants talk about, carelessly, for they know not who might be listening.” Naysmithe grinned.

“What is this place?” Lady Merewen asked.

“It is a sanctuary for my studies,” Naysmithe replied. “And given recent events, it has also become a convenient place for me to wait.”

“Well, the time of waiting is over, my friend,” Kaliam said. “We must get Faethon and free the Witnesses. I believe that Mallik, Farix, and-”

“In vain!” Naysmithe interrupted. “You will not free the Three Witnesses. They will free you.”

“What?” Kaliam exclaimed. “Aidan, Antoinette, and Robby are held in a cage beneath Guard’s Keep-we must rescue them. Alleble has no hope without them!”

“Alleble’s only hope is to let the Three Witnesses do what they must do.”

“We cannot just wait and do nothing,” Lady Merewen objected.

“That is precisely what we must do,” Naysmithe replied enigmatically. “Turn and see what I have here. The last took me some time-I barely finished before Paragor’s attack began.”

Naysmithe turned, held up the candle, and lifted the tapestry. Kaliam and Lady Merewen gasped.

Aidan heard a groan from the shadows across the cell. Some flickering light filtered in through the cell door, and a band of gray came from the barred window high in the center of the cell wall. “Is someone there?” Aidan asked. He was not afraid.

“Aidan?” A pained whisper, but Aidan felt sure he knew the voice.

“Antoinette?” he called. He heard something slide, the grate of metal on stone, and then Antoinette walked into the gray light. Aidan ran to her and they embraced. “Oww!” Aidan yelped. “My wrist. I think it’s broken.”