The Lost Scrolls of Syrock: The Ring of Ferion (Free Preview)

Prologue: The Dying King of Meadowland

King Ferion the Just was born a simple son of a peasant farmer in the small village of S’acreas of Meadowland at the borders of the Harthon Empire during a time of war.

Upon reaching his tenth year, Ferion and all male children of his age throughout Meadowland were decreed by their King, Afelon, to submit to weapons training. An old law from their distant past that was rekindled out of dire necessity. After three years of rigorous preparation he finally became a soldier and was whisked into one bloody battle after another along with thousands of others against the Meadowans’ oldest rival, the ruthless legion of the Harthon Empire.

In the ferocious and harrowing Battle of Kemanthue five years later, Ferion and six of his regiment were dispatched to climb Mount Kemanthue to destroy the nest of Nangandra. The beast was the Crimson Dragon ally of the King of the Harthon Empire and their enemy’s greatest weapon.

The mountain was the highest they have ever climbed of all in their half a decade service under the banner of King Afelon. It also the most dangerous because of its steep slopes and sharp rocks that could cut flesh and bones upon contact. The sun and the moon were about to rally in the distant horizon when they reached the top.

The moment they set foot at the edge of the mountaintop, they were assaulted by three month-old dragons the size of Meadowan hut. Ferion threw his swords in the first two of the nests’ guardians as he sprinted towards the startled third dragon. His aim proved true and the might of the ancient blades pierced hides, tendons and bones boring straight into the beating heart of the voracious creatures. The third guardian stepped back when Ferion leaped high, took his axe from his back with both hands and hacked the blade between the eyes of the dragon. The beast twitches and fell lifeless as Ferion lands on his feet, places his axe back on its sling and retrieves his swords before regarding the others who stood gawking at what they had just witnessed. Forcing themselves to break their stunned countenance, they moved ahead following the wake of their commander to where the dragon nests lies.

There are seven scattered nests but only four contains dragon eggs. Ferion quickly led his comrades-in-arms in destroying the dragon spawns. He was about to reach the last nest when Nangandra returned. The massive monster in all of its twenty meters from snout to tail shook the mountain top with her growl of rage and spat hellish fire upon the Meadowan soldiers. Ferion grabbed an egg and ran off while his companions panicked and were scorched by the Crimson Dragon.

Nangandra struggled as to how to proceed against her last intruder while Ferion placed the egg, the last egg, in his satchel. Ferion took advantage of the mighty beast’s hesitation and leaped upon the dragon’s leg. He stabbed it with his pair of swords, using it to climb higher until he was standing at the back of the feral creature of fire and stone.

The beast moved far too slow and could not strike back at as he keeps on stabbing on the creature’s heavily bleeding back.

Ferion buried Edjalien the Moonblade and Edjaniel the Sunblade as deep as he could until he felt metal touch and crack bones. With one final effort, Nangandra leaped off of the mountain peak and flew over the raging battle below.

She flew higher and higher until Ferion felt his chest straining, gasping against the thinning air, white spots began to dance in his sight and felt a churning of his stomach at the sudden overpowering sense of vertigo. The dragon looked back at him and their eyes met, he saw victory in her reptilian orbs and felt fear grip him for the first time. His head spun, felt nauseous at the taste of bile running up in his throat.

Despite his gnawing trepidation an idea unexpectedly came to his mind and it offered him a narrow window of hope for survival. He took it at once, Ferion sneered knowingly, mockingly at Nangandra. He saw the dragon narrow her eyes into slits in suspicion and roared as he deliberately leaps off of her back and plunge down to the battleground far below them, taking her last egg with him.

* * *

Nangandra’s heart leapt in utter dread for her last egg, wasting no time she folded her leathery wings and drops after the plummeting human. Her eyesight started to blur and she could feel the persistent pain running at her spine from her fatal stab wounds.

As she began closing in on her quarry she stretched out her left forearm and caught him with her shaking talons. She heard him screaming and smelled his terror reeking out of his very quintessence. Then as she looks ahead she realized the ground was already coming in far too fast for her to break her fall.

In one last act of desperation, she whirled her body and allowed her back to take the impact of her descent. Her massive form crushed Meadowan and Harthon soldiers alike. Spears, swords, spiked armors and splintered bones cracked and pierced her thick but weakened hide. Her head had hit a massive rock near a one of the catapults, her skull fractured and bluish black blood splattered the stunned fighting soldiers nearby.

* * *

Ferion relied heavily on his instinct that Nangandra would come after him and save him. He even allowed his own fear to momentarily take over him and screamed in terror as he felt the talons of the beast closed in on his body, hiding his true intent with real fear, a daring act of gamble. He was set to slay the beast at all cost, along with her last egg. When he met her gaze once again, right before they hit the battlefield, he saw a silent plea in her sad and resigned savage eyes.

In that mere seconds before she impacted solid rock, Ferion felt the urge to nod at her and with that an unspoken pact was made between two foes. A visible change came to her, it was as if her eyes radiated contentment and it almost broke Ferion’s heart. He took it to heart as a divine intervention from the gods.

The beast was dead, Nangandra’s grip on him loosened and he landed softly on the blood soaked savannah.

Ferion found himself face to face with Odramus, the general of the Harthons. Defiant, Ferion raised his pair of swords and bellowed a Meadowan battle cry that other allied soldiers repeated until the entire battlefield thundered with their cries of ululation.

Odramus stared in shock at the fallen Nangandra and with sheer fright at her slayer. He took a step back and another until he was running away. The others saw their leader retreating and took flight after him. It was an act never before seen displayed by the supposed to be callous Harthons.

Ferion’s fellow soldiers made pursuit and slaughtered the fleeing enemies. It was then declared that the Battle of Kemanthue was won by the Meadowans and that Ferion became known as the Dragon Slayer, the first one in their dominion for the past two thousand years.

As customary for such a feat, he took out the heart of Nangandra, took the gem inside it and ate a portion of its heart, symbolizing his victory over the dreaded creature and sealing his claim as a Dragon Slayer. His comrades-in-arms roared in joy and awe and he was taken back home as a hero.

King Afelon made him as a general and later on finally approved for Ferion to marry his only daughter the Princess Ofellia, the most beautiful woman in all of Meadowland whom the soldier had loved since their childhood. That time the two were forbidden by Afelon to be together, adhering by their law prohibiting any form of union between peasant and royalty.

The royal wedding in itself caused the majority of the Tribunal to protest vehemently but the King’s word is final and binding and by that none dares to object any further.

King Afelon taught Ferion to create a ring and use the dragon’s heart gem for its stone. The old ruler took him to meet the demigod Meadowan Wizard Deoclus, the son of Syrcan the God of Life, who shortly trained him how to tap the power of the heart gem and wield it.

Ferion used his ring’s power to defeat the armies of their invaders, and under the banner of King Afelon, he took the war to the land of the Empire and invaded Harthon. The ring gave him astounding surge of inhuman instincts bordering to prescience and godly strength. Under his swords the Meadowans swept the Harthons like a deadly plague.

He personally slew the Harthon King and presented the severed head as a gift to King Afelon.

Five years after their great victory, Afelon died from an unknown ailment and Ferion stepped in as the new king of Meadowland. He opened a truce with the conquered Harthons and allowed Odramus to govern his people as long as they pledge their allegiance to his kingdom, much more once again to the suppressed disapproval of the Tribunal who mistrust the Harthons based on their personal primordial prejudice to Meadowans. As he grew old he became loved by his people, even by the Harthons who had become his most fanatical followers, especially Governor General Odramus.

Like the past kings of Meadowland he too was only blessed by a single child, a daughter whom he named Renescles after his mother. But over a decade after the Queen became pregnant again, and for the first time in hundreds of years, there were royal siblings.

Renescles was studying the lore of the Wizard Deoclus in her early teens when Queen Ofellia gave birth to their second daughter, Rhea. When Rhea was born a mixture of good and bad omens were interpreted differently by their priests.

Some claims that the breaking of the curse of their ancestry meant that Syrock, the God of Mortals and his brother Syrcan, the God of Life has finally forgiven their Ancient Sin, a dark past all Meadowans must learn by heart not to commit ever again. The demigod wizard Deoclus on the other hand has a different darker interpretation of that portent. He repeatedly told Renescles that Rhea would be the cause of her downfall both in heritage and in life.

The King and Queen’s heart grew heavy as Renescles grew apart from Rhea. The older princess became grim, moody and violent until there was an instant that she almost killed Rhea unprovoked.

Ferion was enraged and confronted his eldest daughter but Renescles cast him a powerful curse, took his dragon ring and then ran off with her demigod master. The King fell ill and despite all efforts to cure him his condition never changed.

Queen Ofellia summoned for all the best healers across the land and beyond their rule. She announced that whoever would bring her rebellious daughter back alive along with the dragon ring and her demigod lover will be rewarded with treasures and her youngest daughter’s hand in marriage.

Years passed and none succeeded in lifting Renescles’ curse. Brave men from far lands came and took up the challenge to hunt down Princess Renescles but none of them succeeded, not even one came back.

The Harthons dispatched half of their entire army to scour the four corners of Syrock in a vain quest to apprehend the lost princess. They too never returned and for the following months the Queen despaired and began to lose hope. Until the young and very beautiful Princess Rhea met and befriended a traveler who claims that he could cure the king.

The traveler calls himself Sga’ndielle, a Kindelf. His race was unfamiliar to the people of Meadowland who knew only of mortal humans and fell creatures of the Dark Mountains. He told them that his people were but scattered and dwindling, a mere relic of the descendants of the fabled Higher Kind, the Erynelleians.

Sga’ndielle stated that the King’s ring was the only thing powerful enough to break the curse and restore Ferion to health. The path has been made clear, they must find Princess Renescles.

The Queen called forth a Tribunal gathering to weigh the import of the stranger’s claim.

The Kindelf assured Princess Rhea that the verdict is inevitable and that the Queen, the Elders and their Magistrates are just simply unaware of it. He said to her that they have already made their decisions unknowingly.

“It was said that the ring can only be wielded by its maker.” Rhea has asked Sga’ndielle prior to the Tribunal gathering.

“You were told out of context, the dragon ring can only be wielded by the blood of its maker!” the old man chuckled dryly.

“And by blood, meaning us, his daughters! There is hope yet for my father!”

“And so the quest begins,” the Kindelf stated.

 

Chapter 1: The Meadowan Tribunal

Queen Ofellia called forth for a Tribunal gathering, presiding as the moderator for the Forum of the Wise is her daughter Princess Rhea. She was garbed in a flowing crimson and gold royal gown embroidered with the family crest of her father’s clan, her curly golden hair cascading down her shoulders and blends with her wardrobe. Her porcelain skin aglow from the sunlight streaming down from the artistically crafted holes that serves as the boundary between the tall thick marble walls and the golden dome high above them. Her gentle green doe eyes radiated innocence and fairness. Her mouth and countenance denotes a firmness that would only accept respect and obeisance, a trait ingrained in the core of every royalty. Seating at the Chair of Scrutiny is their mysterious guest and the cause of the summoned assembly, the Kindelf Sga’ndielle.

The traveler sat at the center of a vast antechamber situated at the highest tower of the Temple of Syrcan atop the Shale Mountain. Directly in front of him some fifty meters was the raised altar were the Queen sat on her Tribunal Throne. Five steps down to her right was a smaller version of the Queen’s throne that Princess Rhea occupies.

Five meters to the Princess’ right side sat Lord Castranus, the Eldest of the Tribunal, an aged but powerful individual that has served ten generations of Kings including the New Blood, King Ferion. He squinted at the Kindelf with open repulsion, gripping his quill and parchment as if it was a bow and arrow, ready to attack at the slightest hint of provocation which the Kindelf surmised, what the old man was too eager to implement.

Occupying the rest of the Tribunal chairs were the remaining three of the Last Elders; Genus the last living son of the Meadowan Wizard before the time of the demigod Deoclus, Fyneleous the architect of the Temple of Syrcan and Zhafra the last of the long vanquished Shale Lords of Old Meadowland, and the five King’s Magistrates; Hgal the Economist, Sash’met the Enforcer, Jalil the Bureaucrat and the twin Evangelists; Runielle the Priest and Junielle the Priestess. The last chair was vacant; it was supposed to be for the demigod wizard Deoclus, the recently branded Traitor.

Sga’ndielle bowed first to the Queen then to the Princess and down to the members of the Tribunal in decreasing order of their ranks and intoned “May the Merciful Gaze of the Gods of Mortals and of Life bless this Tribunal.”

The Tribunal looked at each other in penetrating mild shock, awe and a tinge of distrust, it was the proper greeting for the Tribunal and only a born Meadowan would know. Princess Rhea glances behind and consciously smiled at her mother.

The Queen nodded and formally replied, “May the Shadow of the Merciful Gaze cast over you, Kindelf.”

Rhea returned her attention on her new friend, he has told her earlier that day that his kind posses a certain gift of Knowing. He is instantly made aware of a person or a creature’s name, stature, mindset and intentions but no more than that.

“It is a wonderful gift from the Gods.” She has said to him.

“It is but a cruel bittersweet humor for the amusement of the Great Ones, nothing more.” Sga’ndielle answered back wryly.

“I do not understand,” Princess Rhea frowned.

“Then you are a very fortunate soul.” the Kindelf clasp her soft hands and winked.

Lord Castranus’ deep resonating voice snapped the Princess Rhea out of her musings and she reflexively reorients her wandering thoughts to the current discussion.

“The power of the Dragon Ring has been wielded as a weapon since its creation, it is made to destroy. I do not believe at the claim of this outsider. For years I have expressed my stand in this and thus so once more.” Lord Castranus growled vehemently.

“Sga’ndielle is of the Kindelf,” Runielle said in his high pitched boyish voice.

“And the Kindelf is of the Higher Kind.” Junielle finished for her twin.

“Irrelevant.” Castranus scoffed.

“The Higher Kinds are the Stewards of Syrock,” Runielle continued as if the Eldest has not spoken.

“They were made Tangent by the breath of Erynelle herself.” Junielle added with conviction.

“What Erynelle made is made Omnipotent, they do not err.” the twins chorused.

“The Higher Kind may not but the Kindelf is another matter.” Genus spoke, his rasping felt dry and brittle in the ears of those who could hear it.

“We do not know of the Kindelf before he came upon us. We cannot say so what is and isn’t of them.” Zhafra countered Genus, her tone strict and defiant.

“But I do. I have met the Kindelf in my youth.” Lord Castranus grunted.

“And you have not spoken of it to us when this Kindelf came?” Zhafra directed an accusing gaze at the Eldest.

“I do not see the need, until now.” Castranus leaned back on his chair and crossed his arm, daring the other to challenge him further.

The last of the Shale Lords was not to be daunted for she was of a breed of unyielding warriors. “Then you are deft, dumb and blind my old friend.” Zhafra’s eyes gripped the Eldest’s and held it unblinking.

“May I speak?” Sga’ndielle cried out before undesirable arguments ensue.

“You will speak only when spoken to.” Castranus looked down on him.

“The Kindelf may have his words.” Queen Ofellia finally said.

The Eldest turns to regard their monarch as if she has gone mad but conceded at once and bowed on his superior, “The Queen has spoken, be quick stranger.”

“The heart gem is the source of life of a Crimson Dragon and several other kindred species. That is what produces fire and energy, this the First Age of Kindelves have long ascertained. The scrolls of this study are safely kept in the Library of the Gods in Teros Eryn, the Sacred Realm of the North where the light of day and the dark of night collides in perfect harmony…” Sga’ndielle explained.

“He speaks of the teachings of the Eternals.” the twins gasped in reverence.

“Why should we believe you?” Sash’met rubbed the stubble in his chin as he leans closer to have a good look on the Kindelf.

“Your beliefs are not my concern, the King’s recovery is.” the traveler stated.

“And if we do not recover the Dragon Ring?” Hgal inquired.

“You must take the blood of a Crimson Dragon that willingly sacrificed its life and use it to coat its heart’s gem before making it a ring. You will no longer need to cast a spell that would trigger its potency like the wizard Deoclus did to your king’s ring, do that, and you have the cure.” Sga’ndielle replied.

“That task is far more impossible than finding the first ring. There has been no Crimson Dragon in all of Meadowland or in the entire continent since Nangandra was slain.” Jalil shook his head.

“Ah but there is, and she lives right here on this very mountain.” The Kindelf’s huge grin stretches from ear to ear.

“There is no such…” Castranus clenched his fists and glowered at the presumptuous stranger.

“Her name is Shaleandra, a young dragon named after her mother and her place of hatching. She grew up under the personal care of the Tribunal, and most important is that she has that unique capacity to converse in human tongue.” Sga’ndielle supplied.

 “How could you possibly know that?” Jalil exclaimed. He bolted upright trembling, hands clenching and unclenching.

“He’s a spy. There is no other explanation.” Sash’met smugly reclines in his seat, left eyebrow raised. Sentries appeared from the massive doors but an almost imperceptible hand signal from the Queen held them at bay.

“Were you sent here by the Syrockans?” Genus took out his spectacles to get a better look at the Kindelf.

“The Syrockans are barbarians! The concept of espionage is far beyond the comprehension of the wisest of them.” Zhafra hisses.

“…the Syrcans, perhaps?” Jalil suggests.

“Those brutes are even worse. They make Syrockans civilized gentlemen by comparison.” Zhafra rolls her eyes.

“Accuse me of what you want but you all just confirmed that there is a Crimson Dragon here in this mountain.” Sga’ndielle spreads out his arms, chuckling.

“It seems that a mere traveler has just baited the benevolent Tribunal into admitting a well kept secret weapon.” Princess Rhea laughs heartily.

“Rhea,” Queen Ofellia admonishes her daughter.

“Mother, I simply affirmed an undeniable fact.” Rhea bows courteously.

“Kindelf, we cannot sacrifice Shaleandra, not even to save my dying beloved.” the Queen stated.

“I know, Your Highness,” Sga’ndielle made a dramatic bow. “Shaleandra is a wonderful creature and above all your friend. I merely wish to point out to the esteemed Elders and Magistrates that there is only one true course of action that they could do and that is to find Princess Renescles, recover the ring and even better; apprehend the Traitor.”

“You know too much for my liking.” Castranus sighed reluctantly.

“I don’t like myself either.” Sga’ndielle said.

“Semantics,” Genus grunted.

“Tribunals, it is time we cast our votes, aye or nay.” Princess Rhea announced in her no nonsense and formal voice.

“The Order of Eryns acknowledges the divinity of the Kindelves, aye!” Junielle touched her palms and bowed.

“The Kindelves are of the Higher Kind and does not err, aye!” Runielle stated.

The rest of the Tribunal voted in agreement except for Lord Castranus, Jalil and Genus.

“The Tribunal has decided! Tomorrow the quest for the Ring of Ferion begins.” Princess Rhea declared.

 

Chapter 2: Champions of the King

“It is said that the Princess’ beauty is rivaled only by the Queen’s and her older sister. Perhaps I should ask Princess Rhea’s hand in marriage the moment I return the Ring of Ferion.” Matis Ungdrek boasted as he run an oiled rag on the wide blade of his massive ax.

Grun Daeniche snorted and spat at the muddy ground before the thick boots of Matis and arrogantly placed the oversized mace on the table beside the Harthon. “Keep dreamin’ troll-face. I bet my big sore fat arse ya wouldn’t last past the foirst league of the Demon Desert.”

Matis stood up slowly and move closer to him, their rum drenched beards and spice laden breaths almost mixed at each other. The drunken crowd cheered and taunted and one of them even started to collect bets.

“Well what do you know? I never thought a cave golem could speak.” Matis narrowed his blue eyes, his thick brows almost covering it.

“More talk from a dumb Harthon, I should have known.” Grun grunted and loomed closer to Matis.

Matis snarled and threw a punch but Grun has already thrown a vicious kick that sent the Harthon crashing and splitting the table in half.

“Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight!” the mix of people around them shouted.

* * *

Odramus shook his head in disgust as he and one of the newly arrived warriors watched the brawl between the Syrockan and Harthon brutes.

 “Sir, may I express once more how honored I am to meet you at last. Your exploits and conquests have inspired me to become a warrior, hoping someday…” the young man said excitedly.

Odramus turn to regard the young adventurer, “Golden hair, pale complexion, un-calloused hands… you are an Arthenian aren’t you?”

“Uh yes… Governor General Odramus, sir, your perceptive eyes overwhelms me…” the young man stammered.

“Silence,” Odramus snapped then nodded at the Arthenian’s armor and sword, “Very shiny, fresh from the blacksmith’s shop. Do you know how to use those?”

“Yes sir, this is the finest broadsword ever forged in the fire mountain of Arthena, it is blessed by the breath of Syrock himself!” the Arthenian said proudly and reverently slid out the sword from its scabbard and presented it hilt first to Odramus.

The veteran soldier took it and examined it with admiration. “The sword’s greatness relies on the hands that wields it and not to where and who forged it. Have you ever used a weapon in combat? Killed an enemy and saw the life fades from his eyes?”

“Uhm… no sir… but I have trained…”

“I give you one test young man, go there and stop that fight, do that and I’ll hand this sword back to you.” Odramus said cocking his head on the tangle of large brutes, mud, rum and sweat.

The Arthenian paled even more but nodded, he then bravely walk towards the fighting Syrockan and Harthon.

“That was cruel, even for you, old man.” Another old soldier chuckled as he and Odramus watches the young adventurer hesitatingly approaches Grun and Matis.

“Come on Opesheus, it will do him good, stopping those two pales in comparison to the true danger that lies along in the quest of finding the ring.” Odramus took a huge bite on his meal.

“So what was the Arthenian’s name?” Opesheus asked.

“I don’t bother with names if I can help it. I doubt if he could even live long enough tonight.” Odramus shook his head indicating the Arthenian who are now being shoved and yelled at by the two large warriors.

“Ah my old friend, you of all people should now that even the seemingly weak can turn the tide of war and change the fate of entire civilizations.” Opesheus’ gaze landed on Odramus’ burnt left cheek.

Odramus’ stared at the fire between them, seeing distant memories.

“You are right Opesheus, King Ferion taught that to me the hard way. I owe him my life.” Odramus nodded gravely.

“What better way to repay that debt than finding his Dragon Ring?”

“Even that is not enough payment. I owe him far more than you can ever fathom.” Odramus muttered, almost to himself.

* * *

Queen Ofellia, Princess Rhea and Lord Castranus stood by the gates of the palace grounds facing the ten warriors.

“Before I begin, Sga’ndielle, are you truly sure about this?” Princess Rhea asked the Kindelf standing among the ten warriors.

“I do not choose my fate, my princess, this is my destiny and I am but a pawn of the gods’ intricate scheme of things. I must obey their will.” Sga’ndielle bowed.

“Very well,” Princess Rhea removed the brooch and let her crimson robe fell, the crowd gasped as the glinting armor she was wearing was revealed.

“Rhea, what is this nonsense?” Queen Ofellia exclaimed.

“Six years we have sent brave warriors to the quest of finding the ring and six times none have returned. Last week I had a dream that I was facing my sister with a warrior beside me holding my father’s ring. I do not know who he is, I do not know if he is even one of you here. All I know is that the ring will be found this time, and that the gods requires me to be there when it happens.” Princess Rhea stated.

“Your Highness, this is highly unorthodox…” Lord Castranus protested.

“My daughter has a gift of Vision. The gods have spoken to her, we must obey.” Queen Ofellia announced in finality then turn to address her daughter in private.

“The warrior who will find the ring will ask you for his price, you are aware of that, we have… questionable men about this batch, I can only entrust you to Odramus.” Queen Ofellia said to her as she adjusted her armor’s straps and clasps.

“I can take care of myself mother. I don’t need Odramus to babysit me throughout the quest.” Rhea rolled her eyes.

“Regardless, he is your father’s most trusted friend. He will ensure your safety with or without my order. And this Kindelf, does he has anything to do with you coming with them?” the old woman whispered.

“Of course not, like you, I only found out he is joining this quest just now.” Rhea answered at once.

“Very well, Opesheus!” the Queen called out and the old soldier came at once, “Fetch the King’s sword and hand it to the Princess.”

Opesheus bowed and rushes into the palace, when he returned with the King’s sword, the Queen was already beginning to give her blessing to the questors.

 “In the name of Erynelle and Syrock, may your journey be safe and fruitful as is your return.” Queen Ofellia raised her voice so that all that was watching the ceremony could hear her.

“Grun Daeniche, fearless warrior from the proud rock village of Eastern Syrock, I give you this necklace as a token of friendship from the Meadowans.” the queen hung the Meadowan Green Stone necklace to the warrior.

The same was said and given to the other eleven; Matis Ungdrek of East Harthon, Eamus Wesche of Arthen, Unar Anck and Udam Anck of Imperion, Lord Hedonn Jai of Flaxene, Commander Aaron Nordalan of Grummoz, Sultan Afad Sa’edhin of Ghoronus, Prince Kaw Xaxun of the Tseene’a’nian Island, Governor General Odramus Nygor of Harthon, Sga’ndielle of the Kindelf and Princess Rhea of Meadowland.

The twelve questors strode along the central avenue of the Royal City as numerous people cheered to the King’s Champions, to their general and to their princess.

Some of the visitors who accompanied their respective representatives gave their own blessings, wishes, cries or last words to their departing warriors.

Each of them rode their mighty steeds, only Grun and Sultan Afad rode the more dangerous Leonusks, powerful reptilian beasts that could outlast any breed of horses on a nonstop journey.

Queen Ofellia and Lord Castranus rode the royal steeds as they follow the champions to the outer gates of the Royal City and from there they watch the group disappear on the horizon as they were joined by the rest of the Tribunal.

“I see only death in this journey, a dark evil that no past questors have ever faced. My Queen, you should not have let the Princess come with them.” Genus, the Elder rasped.

Queen Ofellia turn to see the truth in the eyes of the old wizard but the Shale Lord Zhafra stepped between them and intoned, “Death lies in this quest as it has been in past years, the Princess’ Vision is true, I can feel… finality in the air. This will indeed be the last of the quest for the Ring of Ferion…”

“For good or ill, it is the gods’ will.” The twin evangelists chorused from behind Lord Castranus.

“We can still send our soldiers to retrieve the princess…” Lord Castranus started to say but the Queen touched his arm and sadly shook her head.

“The gods have spoken to my daughter; her fate is beyond any of us now. The only absolute thing about this is that this is the end of the quest and that the ring will be found. My Renescles is alive, Rhea may yet to redeem her and our King is about to be restored at last.” Queen Ofellia said to them.

“The Vision, as the Princess stated, showed only an encounter, who could tell what outcome will it produce?” Lord Castranus crossed his arms.

“For good or ill, it is the gods’ will.” Runielle and Junielle repeated softly.

“The presence of the Kindelf greatly troubles me. I do not trust him,” Lord Castranus grunted.

“That much is plain.” Genus muttered.

“He came here befriending the princess first before introducing himself to us, impose a solution to the King’s plight, spreads his… ramblings to our people for six years, contaminating their beliefs and challenging our teachings, places himself in the princess’ good favor and now he joins our champions, he’s not even a warrior! He could have fed a fake vision to Princess Rhea with that sorcery of his for all we know. He could very well just be working with Deoclus.” Lord Castranus exclaimed angrily.

“For good or ill, it is the gods’ will.” was the Queen’s only reply.

 

Chapter 3: The Demon Desert

“Two weeks! Congratulations Eamus, I never expected yee to last this long.” Grun chuckled in his thick Syrockan accent and patted the Arthenian at the back, Eamus almost toppled on the cooking fire.

“So did I… uhm… what are we eating anyways?” Eamus frowned at the lizard flesh lathered with Imperion rum.

“Poisoned-tip demon lizard, back in Imperion we call them Votkis. They are the most poisonous species of desert lizards in all of Syrock.” Unar Anck answered as he handed another cooked one to Matis.

“Votkis are also the most exquisite aphrodisiac in the eight continents.” Udam Anck added, taking a mouthful and closing his eyes as he savored the spicy taste of their evening meal.

Odramus and Princess Rhea were joined by Sga’ndielle after the Kindelf finished tending the wounds of Lord Hedonn Jai.

“How is he?” Princess Rhea eyed the sleeping form of the Flaxenean.

“Thank Syrock his wounds are not extensive. Even so, had he been human he would have already bled to death yesterday.” Sga’ndielle explained while cleaning his bloodied hands on the basin.

“It was foolish and brave of him to tackle that Vanagran sand viper alone.” Odramus stated.

“He had no choice. He’s the only one close enough to that beast to stop it from killing her.” Prince Xaxun snorted.

“I take it you’d rather have me eaten alive than your stallion?” Princess Rhea confronted the Tseene’a’nian.

“A single stallion can get me places beyond reach or comprehension of a hundred princesses.” Prince Xaxun quoted.

“Ah you like reading the Fables of Amanenth.” Princess Rhea grinned, deliberately ignoring the underlying insult at her, but the pun did not escape the sharp ears of Odramus.

The veteran warrior unsheathed his sword and growled menacingly at the Tseene’a’nian prince, “Utter another word of insult to Her Highness and you shall be reunited with your beloved stallion!”

“Among the proud people of the Tseene’a’nian, an unsheathed blade must not return in its scabbard without it spilling fresh blood.” Prince Xaxun licked the Votkis’ sauce from his thumb and stood up facing the old Harthon standing three meters from him across the fire.

“The prince has a sharp tongue. I fear it will cut him one of these days.” Commander Aaron commented, among them, he was the most silent and rarely socializes to any of them but he was quick to defend his companions during the attack of the Vanagran and its horde.

Matis, Grun, Eamus and the others stopped eating and chatting to silently observe the mounting tension between the two seasoned warriors.

“Odramus, that’s enough!” Princess Rhea rose and grabs her protector by the elbow.

“That’s right, be a good pup and obey you b…” Prince Xaxun choked as Sga’ndielle appeared out of nowhere behind the Tseene’a’nian monarch, his right arm wrapped around the neck of the prince while his other hand was holding out a live poisoned-tip demon lizard with its deadly red tail pointing millimeters from the left iris of the startled warrior.

“Tell me Prince Kaw Xaxun of the Tseene’a’nian Islands, are you truly here on a quest to find the ring to cure the king or to have its power for your own?” the Kindelf hissed, his voice becoming otherworldly as if a spirit was threatening him from a dark dream.

“I do not know what you are talking about… you… thing! Get off of me!” Prince Xaxun gasped.

Odramus’ eyes widened as he realized implication of the Kindelf’s question and rushed to confront the struggling warrior prince.

“Is that true? Speak the truth!” Odramus barked and raised his sword, its razor sharp end touching the chest of the Tseene’a’nian.

“I come to claim for the price of saving King Ferion’s life. I have no need for another Dragon Ring.” Prince Xaxun labored to speak.

Everyone was startled, even Sga’ndielle, “Another? You wield another Dragon Ring?” Princess Rhea asked.

“I am an envoy of the Brotherhood of Dragon Slayers, I was sent here to restore the king’s life for we are in dire need of every kindred we could find. That is all I am at liberty to reveal.” Prince Xaxun revealed, the Kindelf released him the moment he mentioned the ancient group of dragon slayers.

“Brotherhood of Dragon Slayers? Pah! Sounds more like a child would come up with at playing make-believe.” Matis laughed hoarsely.

“No, friend Matis, the Brotherhood is real.” Eamus nodded in comprehension, “We, the Arthenians have long studied that ancient brotherhood. We have only managed to preserve a handful of first hand scrolls about them. It is because of the rarity of known facts about them that made their group unheard of… or treated as a myth in all of the eight continents.”

“My king, the ruler of Grummoz, is also one of the Brotherhood of Dragon Slayers.” Commander Aaron added.

“All of yee keep sayin’ eight continents, there are nine!” Grun interjected.

“The Holy Land is set apart from mortal lands.” Princess Rhea answered quickly then steered the conversation back to the topic, “Why the insult then?”

“Choose… your next word… very… very… carefully.” Odramus was still pointing his sword on Prince Xaxun’s chest.

“I do not trust you Princess, I would have been like the others here hoping for your hand in marriage but the moment you announced you are coming with us I felt something is wrong in your action… and even more wrong in your intention. Suddenly I saw you not as a fair beauty worthy of Erynelle’s Nymphs but as an evil harbinger.” Prince Xaxun rubbed his neck and put a hand on Odramus’ blade and slowly pushes it away.

“Such claims are punishable by death!” Odramus raised his hand to strike but Princess Rhea intervened and held back his arm.

“No Odramus, here we are all equals, let him have his opinion of me. Sga’ndielle, release him!” the Kindelf obeyed, she then turn to face the prince, “What made you think of me that way?”

“Suffice to say that I have in me the means to sense wrongness in people, and danger on paths ahead.” Prince Xaxun took off his right glove exposing the emerald dragon ring he was wearing.

“You have a dragon ring all along with you! Why not use it to cure my father in the first place?” Princess Rhea asked.

“Because only his own ring can cure him,” Prince Xaxun and Sga’ndielle answered at the same time.

“Can you use that ring to help Lord Jai?” Sultan Sa’edhin spoke for the first time.

“Yes, but there are consequences, my ring is not as charitable as King Ferion’s. It can only remove the poison if there is another body where it can be transferred to.” Prince Xaxun nodded.

“Under normal circumstances I would have volunteered without a thought, but I intend to complete my quest.” Commander Aaron said when the Tseene’a’nian looked at him.

“None of us is immune to a Vanagran bite.” Sultan Sa’edhin slumped in disappointment.

“None of you, I am a Kindelf remember, we are of kin to the Higher Kind. I’ll take the poison.” Sga’ndielle volunteered.

“I haven’t met your kind before, nor are we even aware of your existence until now. Perhaps it could work.” Prince Xaxun smiled.

The group then converged around the unconscious Lord Hedonn Jai. Prince Xaxun kneeled beside the Flaxene and instructed Sga’ndielle to touch Lord Jai during the process of transferring. The Tseene’a’nian then touches the emerald dragon ring to the wound of Lord Jai.

“This will take all night. You might all as well get to sleep.” Prince Xaxun informed everyone. No one moved away but as the minutes and hours passed, one by one they retired to their cot until Odramus was the only one left watching them.

“You should rest, that battle against the Vanagran and its swarm of demon lizards have already exhausted you.” Sga’ndielle said to the Harthon.

“I’m taking the first watch.” Odramus said then stood up and climbed up a sand dune so he could see beyond the ridge and still monitor all of them from his vantage.

“Tell me, Tseene’a’nian, what is it truly you saw on the princess when she announced her coming with us?” the Kindelf asked seriously.

“I saw two images, Princess Renescles and that of the Traitor. It is my strong feeling that her dream never came from the gods at all.” Prince Xaxun whispered, then looking around, he moved closer to the Kindelf and spoke very softly, “I am uncertain but I think I felt the presence of the Traitor Deoclus among the crowd back in Meadowland… and I still feel him here, somewhere, lurking.”

“Ah… that explains the darkness I keep sensing the moment we departed and throughout our journey here in the desert. Normally my Kindelf nature would have already discerned him at once, but somehow I fear the old sorcerer have found a way to keep himself hidden even from me.” Sga’ndielle explained then added, “Now that you have explained your reasons, I think it was wrong of you to mistrust the princess herself for something that comes from her sister or that Traitor.”

“That is not a good thing to hear then. If someone can blind a kin of the Higher Kind such as you, then that means we can never be safe throughout our quest.” Prince Xaxun surmised, “And yes, it was unfair of me to treat Her Highness like that, I will convey my apology when she wakes up.”

“That you must do, but as for the Traitor, you can feel him right?” Sga’ndielle reminded him.

“My ring can only sense a feeling of darkness, nothing specific at all. I can never tell where the threat is hiding or know when it will strike upon us.” the Tseene’a’nian admitted.

“Then we all must be in constant alertness.”

“That must be the reason why all the quests have failed all these years.” Odramus spoke from where he sat several meters above the dune from them. Xaxun raised an eyebrow looking at Sga’ndielle.

“I wouldn’t be the King’s most trusted warrior for decades if I can’t even hear hushed conversations.” Odramus smiled at them.

“Do you believe me then?” Prince Xaxun queried.

“My senses are too keen for most humans, but not keen enough to perceive the wrongness your dragon ring or that Kindelf could feel. It just makes sense now why not a soul from any of the hundreds of questors before have ever even returned.” Odramus shrugged.

“Then our batch is truly the last, for of all who have gone before us, we are the only ones who became aware of the threat.” Prince Xaxun stated.

“We can never really be sure. The previous champions may have also suspected it one way or another. Perhaps they weren’t just strong enough to survive.” Odramus mused.

“Awareness; that is the only advantage we could cling on right now.” Sga’ndielle returned his gaze at the dying fire.

 

Chapter 4: Oasis of the Najao

Two and a half weeks after the incident with the Vanagran and its horde of demon lizards, Lord Hedonn Jai’s condition improved and he was in such high spirits that he played the flute during the journey as Sultan Afad Sa’edhin and Prince Kaw Xaxun dutifully sang alternately.

Odramus moves his horse alongside Sga’ndielle’s and the Princess’ and inquired in a low voice, “We’re being followed.”

“How long?” Princess Rhea frowned.

“Three days.” Odramus said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“We must reach the oasis before our stalker decides to make its move.” Sga’ndielle stated, behind the Kindelf, Prince Xaxun dismounted and scanned the area.

“How far is the oasis?” the princess asked.

“Just beyond the dune,” the Kindelf indicated the high rise of sands a quarter of a league away from them.

“Shall we make haste? Would our stalker be alarmed?” Odramus furtively looked behind them where the rest of their convoy were trudging and singing.

“That we should, it is now aware we have felt it. We must hurry!” Sga’ndielle urged his steed to gallop. Princess Rhea followed him closely as Odramus turn to shout at his comrades.

“Everyone head for that dune as fast as you can!” Odramus ordered and sped after the Kindelf and the princess.

Grun and the Sultan instinctively took up the rear using their deadly Leonusks as a protective barricade for any would be attacker.

Lord Jai halted midway and turn to look behind him past the Syrockan and his Ghoron friend, “Look out!” he shouted.

Grun raised his heavy mace as the Sultan unsheathed his pair of snake-blades as a massive Tenathronodon bursts out of the sands several meters behind them.

The two Leonusks growled menacingly baring their dagger-long fangs at the sight of the threat.

The twins Unar and Udam turned their stallions around and ran back while raising their magical Krean bows and took aim at the behemoth.

“Mount the cannonballs on that palm tree! Lash it with ropes!” Odramus barked, the rest of them took out the few cannonballs they have then went about lashing ropes and pulling the trees to bend down.

“I’m on it!” Commander Aaron rushed to prepare the ropes.

“You’re using those trees as catapults? Are you crazy?” Eamus exclaimed.

“Improvise or die.” Matis gave a toothy grin at the young Arthenian.

“Aim for the head! Wait for a clear shot!” Odramus yelled.

* * *

The huge Tenathronodon swung its massive spiked tail at Grun and it collided with a wet crunch at the thick hide of his Leonusk. The Syrockan warrior leaped onto the hind leg of the monster buried his dagger to keep himself from falling off and started pounding his mace on the leg joints of the powerful creature.

The Sultan made his Leonusk jump over the back of the Tenathronodon and hop off onto the broad spiky shoulders of their attacker.

As the Ghoron began slicing the back of the monster, his Leonusk went slashing and biting the thick hide of the larger beast with its claws and fangs.

Grun heard a satisfying crack at his hammering finally got through the thick scales and damaged the leg joint. He renewed his attack with more intensity until the howling Tenathronodon started to buckle and waver.

Sultan Sa’edhin spotted the others pulling back the palm trees and saw Odramus signaling to him in Nokshan sign language.

“Hang on tight Grun!” Sultan Sa’edhin shouted at the Syrockan as he moves away from the beast’s head and mounted his Leonusk.

The first volley of cannonballs shot across the air and impacted hard on the face of the enraged monster. The explosion drove the Tenathronodon staggering backwards sending the Sultan and his Leonusk sailing off the creature and landing hard on the sand.

Grun made his way to the other hind leg and repeated his attack as the second and last volley of cannonballs stuck at the side of the Tenathronodon, blood and gore gushed out from the wound and the beast started to fall.

The Syrockan drops down on the sand and rolled away in time to avoid being crushed into pulp by the heavy monster.

Odramus and the others came forward to help the Ghoron up and check if the Tenathronodon is truly dead.

“Where’s Grun?” Sultan Sa’edhin asked as the twins starts to administer some herbs to stop his wounds from bleeding and opening wider.

“He’s grieving.” Matis said pointing at the rear of the fallen behemoth.

The group spotted Grun kneeling before the carcass of his Leonusk, “Return to your Maker, my friend Aghraz.” the Syrockan warrior prayed.

“I have never seen a Tenathronodon before. I never thought I’d ever see one at all in my lifetime.” Eamus gawked at the huge dead creature, running his hand along the scaly belly.

“Tenathronodons are not local here. They dwell in the rocky region of Northern Syrca, thousands of leagues from here. This is clearly a work of sorcery.” Sga’ndielle muttered, admiring the fallen monster.

“Almost a month now and we’ve only lost two beasts. The gods must be in favor of us.” Matis said looking at Grun and his dead Leonusk.

“This monster’s hide can be used as armors but we cannot consume its flesh, it is not edible.” Lord Jai said looking at the holes made by their cannonballs on the Tenathronodon’s ribs.

“Aye, but its flesh is still a banquet to the desert fauna, this place will be crawling with predators by sundown. We must make camp on the oasis and set up a defensive wall.” Odramus nodded.

“Grun, are we to bury or burn Aghraz?” Sultan Sa’edhin inquired.

“Neither. We, the Syrockans, believe that the remains of Syrock’s creations must be left untouched, the desert shall claim Aghraz.” Grun shook his head and patted his Leonusk at the head then started heading up the dune to the oasis.

* * *

That night the warriors fell the outer line of trees and made a makeshift fence surrounding the entire oasis, they made a small fire at the center and surrounded themselves with thick bushes so that it will not be too visible. Six of them stood guard around the perimeter while the others eat first. Outside, dozens of nocturnal desert predators slowly came out and made their way to the Tenathronodon.

“This is the Oasis of the Najao. This is the last refuge of the desert nomads in the ancient days. This is where the past questors were always last seen alive. Beyond this, there is no turning back.” Odramus explained to everyone.

“We have come so far to falter now. We will continue.” Eamus said.

“A Grummoz never backs down.” Commander Aaron nodded.                         

Matis came out from the shadows and rejoined them. He knelt by the fire facing Odramus and the princess, “Prince Xaxun spotted something that does not belong to the oasis.” Matis said in a hushed tone.

“What is it?” Odramus took out his sword, as did the others.

“Come, I’ll show you.” Matis said and Odramus followed, Princess Rhea started to join them but the veteran Harthon turn to stop her.

“Please, stay here with them and I’ll let you know if it’s safe.” Odramus held out a hand in dismissal.

“Princess Rhea,” Sga’ndielle reached out to grab her hand.

“Alright, just be quick.” Princess Rhea sighed and return to her spot beside the Kindelf.

* * *

Matis, Prince Xaxun and Odramus crouched by the rocks looking out at the east side of the oasis, there at the center of a clearing was a huge boulder. Although it seems like any other boulder, the fact that it was at the center made it seemed out of place.

“It’s just a large rock.” Odramus frowned.

“Look at the sand.” Xaxun whispered.

“Boot tracks!” Odramus gasped.

“We’re not alone.” Matis felt the hairs at the back of his neck rose.

“Of course you aren’t.” the voice startled the three and they bolted up crying out in alarm with their weapons raised.

“Easy, easy, mate! No need to be hostile, ey? I’m one of you! I’m Finus Fontableaux, the Bard of Spanangreux, the only one left alive from the Ten Champions of Meadowland last year.” said a thin bearded man behind them.

“I remember you!” Odramus finally got over from his initial shock, “You sang to the Queen before you and the others left the Royal City. What happened to your companions?”

“I have the tale just for that question, but if you may, I’d prefer to tell it on a larger audience, by the fire while eating, if possible.” Finus said cocking his head to the direction where the Princess and the others sat.

“Of course, come with us.” Odramus nodded and the four headed back to their camp.

“Finus!” Princess Rhea exclaimed in disbelief as Odramus, Prince Xaxun and Matis escorted the gaunt bard.

The others stood up reaching for their weapons but the Princess signaled at them to stand down.

Sga’ndielle recognized him as well and motioned for him to sit down and handed him a bowl of stew, “Eat, Bard of Spanangreux, and tell us your tale, be it gay or grim.”

“That I will, oh the horrors of a life alone!” Finus Fontableaux exclaimed as he hungrily ate while the others sit by the fire waiting for his tale to begin.

 

Chapter 5: The Ten Champions

Prince Kaw Xaxun and the Kindelf Sga’ndielle made a temporary warding spell to keep the oasis unseen to the prowling night creatures drawn out by the corpse of the Tenathronodon so that everyone of them could gather and listen to the tale of Finus Fontableaux.

“The hex would keep us invisible to their senses for the duration of the night, but that will not stop them from entering the oasis should they chose to do so, or decide to have a drink on the pool.” Prince Xaxun explained to Princess Rhea and the other warriors.

“It will suffice, now Finus, tell us your tale.” Sga’ndielle prompted the famished bard who have already consumed a large portion of their evening meal.

“Begin your recounting after leaving Meadowland and crossing the borders of Harthon.” Odramus said when everyone was seated around the campfire.

“Ten of us have set forth to find the ring, I, General Nax of Harthon, Ubeline Keet of the Ynetatawae Peninsula, Zyneas of Nymposcia, Eamus’ older brother Deamus Wesche of Arthen,” Finus nodded at the young Arthenian, “Tamruck of Western Syrock, Gobeleth of Eastern Syrca, Raja Hanaputh of Ghoronus, Thiseus of Beldefort and the strange wanderer Msil Lesenopeus. Each of us rode the proud horses of Meadowland and braved the Demon Desert past violent sandstorms and constant attacks from the Sunwolves.”

“Sunwolves?” Eamus frowned.

“Sunwolves are one of the local fauna of the Demon Desert. I have spotted a small pack of them before we encountered the Vanagran sand viper. I assume they were afraid of the sight of the Leonusks so they opted to stay out of our way.” Lord Jai said to Eamus.

“Leonusks, ah graceful creatures, I am sorry for your loss.” Finus commented nodding at Grun who just grunted at him in response.

“No one fell during your trek in the desert?” Udam asked.

“Six of us were wounded including me. The Sunwolves are fierce predators and are not easily scared or deterred. We had to slay almost a dozen of them before they acknowledge us as a threat to their pack. Even that did not entirely stop them from following and striking at us occasionally.” Finus explained.

“Upon reaching this oasis, we made camp and defended our post for a massive assault by the king of Sunwolves; at least that was what Gobeleth called the largest sunwolf that led our attackers.”

“The following day the Sunwolves finally gave up and left though Zyneas doubt that we’ve seen the last of them. True enough as we are about to break camp and continue our quest the king of the Sunwolves and an even larger number of them stormed us from all sides under the scorching heat of mid-day.”

“Ubeline Keet fell, and the Sunwolves descended upon him, the Raja found an opening and he led us and our horses to escape but the savage beasts chased us, General Nax and Deamus drop back and engaged our pursuers so that the rest of us can keep running. We made camp on the Doom Canyon ten leagues east of the Oasis of the Najao. We waited there for three days but the General and Deamus never returned. Tamruck and Thiseus rode back and returned carrying the swords of General Nax and your brother.” Finus said placing a hand on Eamus’ shoulder.

“Doom Canyon? I don’t think I have that on my map.” Sultan Sa’edhin’s brows creased as he checked his map.

“It must be labeled as the Najao Canyon, the cave city.” Finus supplied, the Sultan nodded as he saw the runes on the parchment he was looking on.

“Are the tales true about the Najao Canyon? Does the Najao still live there?” Matis queried.

“As a matter of fact yes, while we are making our prayers to our departed companions hundreds of them came out from the cliff walls’ caves. Zyneas came forward to communicate with them for she knows the ancient tongue during her studies in Arthen. The Najao welcomed us and gave us shelter, food and water. They held a council to decide how far they will aid us in our quest and they have unanimously agreed to tell us where to find the Tower of the Dark Sorcerer whom most of suspects the home of the Traitor.”

Princess Rhea’s eyes narrowed and Odramus’ grip on his sword’s hilt tightened at the prospect of seeing the turncoat Deoclus once again.

“The Najao warned us that the Dark Tower is festered with the foulest creatures from the four corners of hell itself, they said that they could not take us there, they could only show us the way. We told them that we are already grateful for everything they have done for us and that we could not possibly ask them to put themselves in harm’s way in our behalf. So they gave us a guide and after ten leagues we finally came into view of the tallest rock spire in the rocky region of Umbeloth, the Uncharted Continent.”

“Umbeloth is a myth!” Odramus exclaimed.

“No it’s not.” Commander Aaron shook his head.

“So is my Brotherhood of Dragon Slayers.” Prince Xaxun grinned.

“Point taken,” the Harthon general conceded.

“My map ends halfway before Umbeloth.” Sultan Sa’edhin buried his forehead in his hands in frustration.

“Despair not, here, take the map given to us by the Najao.” Finus took a scroll from his satchel and handed it over to the Sultan of Ghoronus.

“Did you encounter the Traitor?” Princess Rhea inquired.

“Zyneas, Rajah Hanaputh and Thiseus were joined by our Najao guide Akit and stormed the Dark Tower while Tamruck, Gobeleth and Msil set out to the Treasure Cave beneath the tower where it was believed that the Ring of Ferion was hidden. They all voted for me to return to the Najao to convince them to fight against the Traitor but when I reached the canyon, hundreds of fell beasts are already attacking them, slaying all of the Najao from the old to the women, children and men.”

“That is grave news indeed,” Sga’ndielle sadly bowed his head.

“I saw the Najao prince, the child Nmento and took him with me and we flew back to the Demon Desert riding their strongest mustang. After weeks of struggling to survive we finally reached the oasis and made camp.” Finus continued his story.

“If you returned here with Nmento, what happened to the kid? Is he inside your rock house?” Commander Aaron asked.

“When I returned here, we heard the Sunwolves howling and feared for their attack, Nmento told me that the Najao has mastered the lore of rock molding so using his powers he moved the largest boulder as if it weighs less than him before my eyes and placed it on the center of a clearing, there he reshaped the rock’s interior as if it were mere clay and when he was done he told me to get inside, I was astounded as I touched it, it was as solid and sturdy as it was when I first saw it, not a spot remained soft. We then filled our shelter with food and water and woods, and once more he magically closed the stone sealing us and our mustang inside leaving only a few small holes for the air to come in and out. For a week we lived inside the rock, until we ran out of food and water. Nmento checked the area and said it was finally clear of the Sunwolves so we got out and started to prepare for the journey.” Finus paused to empty his cup of water.

“As we were about to leave the Sunwolves returned and we were surrounded. Nmento gave me his satchel and shoved me back into our rock house throwing our food and water after me. He took out his necklace and gave it to me before sealing me inside the rock, he told me to learn the green scroll carefully and practice it using his pendant. When the rock closed I tried to watch him from the holes but I couldn’t get a good view. I heard him and the mustang somewhere beyond my vision and the howling of the Sunwolves filled the air.”

“Silence came in the morning and I was trapped. I panicked but when I finally come to my senses I assessed my situation, I rationed my supplies and studied the green scroll. I learned that it was a basic lore in tapping the stone life from the pendant and applying it on any type of rocks. I am not sure but by the time my supply ran out, I can easily open and close the rock door. I decided then to finally come out and what I saw made me wept. Nmento was dead, his body ripped apart by the savage fangs of the Sunwolves and our mustang lay half eaten by smaller nocturnal predators. Though the beasts lay dead in every direction, with various sizes of rocks littered about, I took no comfort that the Sunwolves were also slain, they have killed Nmento.”

“How did he kill all those Sunwolves?” Eamus asked curiously.

“Remember I mentioned I saw him move the massive boulder as if it weighs nothing? I think he threw all those rocks on the Sunwolves while riding our mustang. So I was stranded on this oasis and for a year I strived to survive alone, I have memorized all the maps and charts on Nmento’s satchel, I have learned a little more about stone lore and most of all I discovered a very useful secret that could help me get past the Dark Tower undetected and retrieve the ring.” Finus revealed to them.

“That is the single most important thing yee have ever said.” Grun said.

“What secret?” Odramus and Xaxun asked.

Finus rolled out the map and pointed on a blackened section of it south of the oasis, “This is the Mazukal Region; a vast area of thick rainforest teeming with millions of wildlife, here at its heart lays the ruins of Kidazan, the ancient city of the ancestors of the Najao. There stood the Kidazan Tree…”

“Wait, wait, wait… Kidazan? You mean the Kidazan Empire, home of the first Demi-God?” Sga’ndielle’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“I am unfamiliar of it. But I guess so.” Finus frowned looking closely at the Kindelf, “Why? What’s wrong with that place?”

“Legend has it that in the Golden Age of the Kidazan Empire, a legion of dark entities attempted to conquer the city and take the Kidazan Tree for their own twisted purpose. It was said that every single people of the Empire joined their powers and tap the spirit of the Tree. Awakened, the Tree Spirit punished the invaders and turned them all into trees but the spell was out of control and the Kidazans were also turned, hence the vast forest of Mazukal came to be.” Sga’ndielle said.

“What was so important about that tree?” Matis grunted.

“And what does it have to do with getting the ring?” Grun added.

“Your questions has merit, I was about to get into that part.” Finus smiled then continued, “Every full moon the fruit of the Kidazan Tree opens like a flower and releases a single drop of liquid. According to Nmento’s parchment, whoever consumes that drop will have the power of invisibility whenever he or she chooses to do so. It was also said that such abilities can only last until the next full moon.”

“Why haven’t you tried to get it yourself all this time?” Unar asked.

“Because I cannot possibly make the journey from here to there on foot and I have no idea how am I going to get through that thick forest if ever I do get there.” Finus said matter-of-factly.

“It will be full moon in three weeks.” Udam said looking up at the moon.

“A quest within a quest, this mission is getting more and more interesting.” Commander Aaron commented between bites.