Chapter 10

Trek across the plains

The two continued to travel east. Not much was said as they slowly plodded over the many miles of forest, Cedric however was not at peace in his own mind. He could not escape a nagging feeling that more could have been done to prevent Kathryn's recapture. Both he and Robert had been tricked by that noise had led them away from the camp. After a few days of uneventful travel, the companions reached the edge of the forest. Stretched out wide before them lay the plains of Doath. Golden blades of grass, rising knee high covered the landscape. In the west the sun dressed the sky in a fiery tunic. The solitary forms of Cedric and Robert cast long, looming shadows as they stood at the edge of this vast plain. Cedric had never seen such a place! Always had he been accustomed to the feel of the woods that lay around his village. He was awed that places as open and large as this existed in the land of Lybrintha. Cedric glanced over at his ranger friend who seemed to be staring at something in the far off distance. Cedric, following his companion's gaze, turned his eyes to the horizon. Far in the distance rose Mount Zegula; it's three claws piercing the crimson sky.

"Mount Zegula, many myths and legend surround that mountain," Robert said with a note of…was it longing? Cedric cast a sidelong glance at his ranger companion but remained silent. "It was the home of the Aero Dragon Tribe, the stronghold of the entire dragon race! Many battles were fought along its now bloodstained slopes."

Cedric had heard his uncle tell many a tale about the legendary mountain which now stood before them like a silent guard, a sentinel whose only purpose was to testify the great deeds which had been preformed. Still they were just stories.

"Dragon tribe…" Cedric grunted. "The Aero tribe is a myth, nothing more. What should I care for an oversized ant hill."

"You don't believe the legends?" Robert suddenly turned on Cedric, a wild fire burning in his eyes.

"They were nice stories when I was five, but at sixteen I hardly believe them anymore."

"No matter what happens…always...always…we must hold on to those legends. They are more then legend, they are fact…the Aero dragon tribe may no longer live in the caves and catacombs, but their souls remain. They have many lessons yet to teach us!" Robert said rather suddenly. Cedric noticed a wild fire burning in his eyes. Instantly Robert regained his composer. Standing once again he shouldered his heavy pack, as well as Kathryn's pack which the soldiers had failed to take. Cedric also took up his pack and the two continued on into the long open land, leaving a faint trail of dust in their wake.

Darkness came quickly that night bringing with it the unearthly sound of the Doath Plain crickets for which the plains of Doath are named. The two companions were bathed in soft moonlight as they set their packs down. Using dry prairie grasses and wood from Kathryn's pack they started a fire and set up a small camp. Soon the smell of cooking meat filled the air; two pieces of venison sizzled merrily in a pan over the fire. Cedric and Robert both sat on their packs as they watched the meat cook. It was Robert who spoke first.

"Tell me what you know of Lybrintha's history." To Cedric, this was an odd topic to be discussing at the present time, but he answered nevertheless.

"To tell you the truth I don't know much," Cedric stated slowly.

"Tell me what you do know." Robert commanded.

"Well… men arrived in Lybrintha four hundred years ago. They came from the lands beyond the sea…"

"Do you know why they left their comfortable home across the ocean?" Robert suddenly burst in.

"They left to explore the world and enlarge their kingdom's boundaries."

"There, you would be wrong!" Robert exclaimed as he snatched a smoldering stick from the fire and began to stir the slowly dying fire.

"They left for a new home because their home across the sea was a land of fire and brimstone, a land of pain and screams. In short their home was so destroyed, torn and ravaged by war that they longed for a new start. What else do you know?"

Cedric was shocked and at a loss for words. Slowly he replied.

"Where…Where did you learn this?"

"Never mind where I learned it…carry on. What else do you know of the perverted history that the men of this land have forced themselves to believe." Robert spat out these last words with an air of venom in his voice.

"Well…after they arrived they promptly began to build cities, plow land, grow food, and live in peace."

Robert continued to drill him on the subject of Lybrintha's history. It was as if he wanted to exhaust the topic, to squeeze out every detail that Cedric possessed. Finally after some time he had no more to tell. The sound of the crickets had died away and stars littered the clear sky. Robert remained silent for a moment while Cedric attempted to catch his breath.

"What you know is true…save for several missing parts. There is absolutely no mention of either the Aero Dragon Tribe or the four weapons.

"Those are nothing but children's tales." Cedric smirked, staring at his boots

"NOTHING BUT CHILDRENS TALES?" Robert was on his feet instantly, his face livid. Cedric shrunk back from this sudden assault. "NOTHING BUT CHILDREN'S TALES?" Robert continued to shout. "WITHOUT THE AERO DRAGON TRIBE… WITHOUT THE POWER OF THE CHOSEN WEAPONS… WITHOUT THESE THINGS YOU DO NOT EXSIST! WITHOUT THESE THINGS ALL OF LYBRINTHA WOULD HAVE FALLEN INTO DARKNESS!" Robert, his face now red sank down on top of his pack as though exhausted. Cedric was utterly at a loss for words. "Forgive me…" Robert whispered as he gasped for air. "I forget myself. Instead of shouting I owe you the truth." The Ranger wiped the sweat from his brow and began to speak.

"Lybrintha was once a barren wasteland covered in either burning lakes or frozen plains." Cedric looked around him at the many miles upon miles of waving prairie grass surrounding their little campsite and tried to imagine as barren wasteland, devoid of life. "Until one day, The Aero Tribe descended from the heavens. Sent by Orgon himself, these messengers spent milleniums reshaping this land, cultivating and restoring the earth…"

"What!" Cedric blurt out "Reshape the land? How did they do that? Who is this Orgon person?"

"How they restored the land, I do not know. The dragons are a highly magical race. Blessed with powers beyond the comprehension of mankind," The Ranger continued smoothly despite the interruption. "Orgon is the chief deity of their religion. Said to be the creator of Lybrintha and the giver of all things good and great. They also say that it was he who commanded the creation of the weapons, on an island hidden somewhere in the midst of the great sea which lies to the west."

Cedric, as he listened to Robert's narrative, began to stare at the great mountain looming in the distance.

"Many years passed, and the Dragons remained in their stronghold studying the stars and the earth learning all they could of it's secrets. Meanwhile, men arrived and built their own kingdom. Waria, the great black city was it's capital. It began as a small fishing outpost, but over the course of two hundred years it grew to a mighty center of power, the two races, both dragons and men, were at peace, but it did not last for long.

Robert paused for a moment before resuming the tale in lower tones. Cedric wondered if it was a coincidence that the fire began to die at this exact moment?

"There was born a young dragon, whose real name has been long forgotten. He was unlike any dragon hatchling that had ever come before him and unlike any that ever will be. His scales were dark as jet and his eyes; they held a ghostly light. Quickly he passed through the training placed before all dragon youths. He held an unnatural power. The elders of the tribe looked upon him with pleased eyes, they held high hopes for this powerful young one. Tribe Chief and one day an elder of the council they wished for him. But alas it was not to be the black dragon committed an act of treachery so evil that it can not be spoken of in the tongues of men or dragons. No one is sure why he did it but it happened nevertheless. Disgusted, the elders banished the young hatchling using magic that is known to none but the dragon elders."

Robert paused for a moment in his narrative. He gazed to the west at the mountain before them. Lifting his mug to his lips he took a long draught of water.

"Forgive me, I am not accustomed to speaking for long periods of time. Often my throat runs dry." Cedric remained silent as Robert resumed his tale.

"Furious, the hatchling wandered about this world as a specter, simmering in anger and undying hate toward the entire Aero Tribe. For fifty years he wandered, growing in size and strength, gathering followers, all the while increasing in madness. When fifty years had passed, and the young hatchling was fully-grown, he gathered his army of followers, and marched on Mount Zegula. A monstrous leader the young dragon made, with grim, black scales as hard as iron, long bloodstained claws, and flames brewed in his belly hotter then the pit of hell. He was feared by all, earning him the name Hellvidra, which in the tongues of old means Spawn of The Ghoul. A crude force some fifty thousand monsters from the cursed Hive Island, backed by outcasts from every nation, joined his unholy legion. He even succeeded in persuading those few primitive unintelligent dragons forbidden to the far north to fight alongside his fatal army."

Cedric found himself leaning on the uttermost edge of his seat as Robert paused in his telling, every fiber of his being longed to hear the rest.

"I feel as if I am once again sitting on the floor of my home in Volafar. Listening to my uncle." He thought with a mental laugh.

"It was an opposing force, but the god mountain is not easily over thrown," the ranger continued. " The Aero swiftly sent messengers to the men in Waria, and they responded with a army of their own, forty thousand men strong it was! With the many dragon warriors of the Aero Tribe behind the bearers of Waria's crest it was a force to be reckoned with. For nigh a week the two armies clashed in a mighty bloodbath, sword against claw, bow against tooth. Many died on both sides, mangled bodies littered the mountain side, blood flowed as freely as water."

Robert stopped speaking and shuttered. "It was a gruesome sight to behold, I am sure. Yet Hellvidra's army never faltered in it's attack." All the world went quiet around them as Robert spoke softer then even the sound of the soft breeze that was now blowing through their camp.

"On the dawn of the eighth day, it seemed as if the mountain would fall. Waria's men lay bleeding, wounded and dead all over the mountain side, few of the Aero Dragon's were left standing, and just when Hellvidra had thought the day won, a ray of hope appeared. A young boy with crimson hair bright as the sun rose his sword, and with a cry that echoed over the battle field, drove his blade, hilt deep into Hellvidra's skull! Flames spewing from his decrypted jaws, Hellvidra turned to dust and passed into the void. As they witnessed the defeat of their leader, what was left of Hellvidra's army turned on itself and by it's own power was destroyed.

The crimson haired boy was heralded as a hero among all races and to this day is still revered, even if men have forgotten the real reason they worship him. His sword, which accomplished the great deed, was placed in a temple at the spire of Waria's greatest palace. Even to this day it rests there as a token of why this world remains free."

Robert stopped speaking and reached for his mug once again.

"Is that all?" Cedric asked after a few moments of silence from the ranger. After draining his mug of every drop of water Robert replied slowly emphasizing every word.

"That is the end of that tale. Many more exist to be told, but it would take weeks to tell them all. Besides my throat is not willing at the moment to say much more. Do you believe now?"

"No," Cedric said rather curtly. "I do not, they are nothing but good stories I think." A grim smile clawed at Robert's lips.

"I would not expect more. One who believes in such things without first careful contemplation and fervent prayer is nothing more then a fool. You are no fool Cedric." With these words, Robert spread his pack on the ground and almost instantly fell asleep. Cedric sat up long into the night contemplating the story he had just been told.

"To think, such things have happened in this world." He told himself silently as he stoked the fire with the end of a smoldering stick. Soon Cedric followed Robert's lead and laying out his pack lie down and closed his eyes. The ghostly sound of the Doath Plain crickets rung in his ears was the last thing he heard as he drifted off to sleep.

It was the slightest sound of boots scuffling along the ground that woke Cedric. At first he thought the sound was that of Robert rolling over in his sleep, but the sound of feverish breathing just above him forced Cedric to jerk his eyes open. There, standing above him with a wicked battle-axe raised to strike, was a man with a demonic smile dominating his lips. Cedric had but a second to react. He franticly rolled to the side just as the great axe fell where his head had lain but seconds before.

"ROBERT! GET UP! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Cedric shouted as he drew his short sword. In an instant, the ranger was on his feet, rapier drawn.

There was but one foe. The man, his body covered entirely in heavy armor, his face obscured by a large steel helm, threw aside his axe and drawing his long sword from an elegant sheath at his side, converged on the pair. Advancing on Cedric first, the man swung his long sword recklessly at his neck. Quickly back stepping the deadly blade and jumping to the left, swinging his blade as the man's side, Cedric's blade was deflected by his opponent's sword with a lazy flick of his wrist.

"I'm outmatched," thought Cedric as he rolled out of his swipe. "I don't know anything about swordplay. This man is a seasoned warrior." Suddenly the man was on top of Cedric who was still on the ground after his roll; cruel steel lay but inches from his body. Cedric franticly swept his blade upward. Sparks few from the two blades as they collided in a mighty saber lock. Cedric was not only outmatched in skills but in strength as well. Easily, the man pushed Cedric's blade out of the way. With a dull thud of flesh against metal, a blur suddenly slammed into the man leaving Cedric free. Jumping to his feet he saw that Robert had tackled the opponent and they now were wrestling in the tall prairie grass. Before Cedric could come to Robert's aid, the ranger was on his feet as was the armor-clad enemy.

"ROBERT! CATCH!" Cedric shouted as he tossed his short sword through the night air. Expertly the dark ranger caught the flying steel and pounced upon the attacker. Sweeping his blades forward in an X-like shape, Robert swung at the man's neck attempting to draw blood, but to no avail. The attacker nimbly backstepped, and leaping forward he swung his blade down vertically. Robert lifted the shortsword just in time to parry the blow off to the left barely missing his ear.

Sparks flew from the clashing swords as the two men fought. Cedric watched on the sidelines, in awe of the amount of skill in front of him. Both the ranger and the attacker fought with elegance unlike any Cedric had ever seen before as swords wove webs of steel before each of the dancing combatants Cedric stood there in silence. Suddenly, Robert swung at the man's legs with his slim rapier. As the man rose his blade to parry the blow, Robert hooked the long sword between his own weapons and with a surge of strength he wrenched the blade from the attacker's grasp. Instantly the point of the ranger's blade swept up towards the point resting underneath the attacker's chin. The man sunk to his knees exhausted.

His sword out of reach and Robert's rapier point pressed against his neck the mysterious foe was entirely at the ranger's mercy. Cedric let out a shout of victory at the triumph of his companion, but was swiftly silenced when the man began to speak between ragged breaths.

"A fine opponent you have been ranger. I have fought your kind before."

"As have you strange warrior. You fight with a strength rarely found in men these days." Robert replied his face unchanging from the grim frown of battle.

The man slowly reached up and hooking his fingers underneath the faceplate of his helm lifted the steel to reveal a rugged war worn face and short red hair.

"Alas…My princess…I have failed." The man spoke softly as he lowered his head for the finishing blow. Yet it never came, instead of raising his blade to kill the defeated enemy, Robert with a flush sheathed his rapier.

" Princess?" The Ranger questioned. "I observed your crest is that of Volafar. My companion and I," he gestured at Cedric, "Were just recently in the company of Princess Kathryn of Volafar." The man suddenly looked up, a fire burning in his eyes.

"Really? Where is she now? Is she safe? Do you jest with me ranger!" Suddenly the man was on his feet once more. In a single movement the rapier was once more resting underneath the man's chin."

"Calm down warrior." Robert whispered swiftly. Slowly the man relaxed his stance as the ranger resumed speaking.

"No, I do not jest, she was with us but two nights ago. A battalion of Yorde's army including General Travis Gothic himself pursued us. While we were preoccupied, under the cover of darkness, the princess was recaptured.

The moment he heard those words the man seemed broken. He hid his face in his hands as tears flowed from his deep green eyes

"Recaptured?" puzzled the stranger through his tears.

"My friend here," Robert once again gestured at Cedric, "had escaped with the princess from a Yorde prison camp when they found me. We now journey to Waria to seek assistance."

There was a long pause in which none spoke. The only sound was that of the stranger's sobs.

"What is your name warrior?" Robert suddenly asked. Regaining his composer somewhat, the man looked at the pair and replied.

"Joseph, Joseph Weaver, Captain of the Guard of the now fallen Volafar."

"Would you travel with us Captain Weaver?" The Ranger inquired.

For a moment Captain Weaver said nothing. He stood pondering the offer. Suddenly, without a word, he placed his helm back on his head and snatched up his battle-axe. As Robert and Cedric shouldered their packs they watched as their newfound companion sped off before them.