For whatever reason, I was punished by the Fates to be wifi-less for these past several weeks – not sure what heinous crime I committed that warranted such a brutal retribution.
Thanks for faithfully waiting. Here, have a virtual I.O.U on me.
Guest – The idea for the starskin journal was the product of mine and my maternal unit's collaboration, which stemmed from a conversation about innovative ways to communicate found in various popular works of fantasy, followed by another bout of research on that God-send, the Fablehaven wiki page.
On with the story. By the by, this is a very detailed chapter with little dialogue. Prepare for a barrage of information! Fair warning.
Disclaimer: I own a copy of all five books, but I do not happen to own the rights to Fablehaven. That honor abides with the estimable Brandon Mull.
Kendra fought off the dizziness, struggled to retain her self-control. Gavin had pulled back to gauge her reaction. His face was slightly reddened, his eyes were blazing, narrowed with precision, and he was breathing heavily.
Kendra had to think fast. If she commanded him, he would act arbitrarily to her demands. No amount of pleading would placate the monster. Playing nice was out of the question. Apparently civility brought out his ugly side.
You mean his hideous side, Imaginary Seth chimed in, His ugly side is all you've seen since the beginning.
So not helping right now! Kendra thought back.
Her conscience shut itself up. Great. Now she really was out of options. There was only one thing left to do.
Submit. Or, to be more specific, submission to the extent of apathy.
Kendra said nothing. She neither prevented nor encouraged him; she did nothing. Except stare back at him passively.
The energy in the room intensified tenfold. It was as though their wills were locked into a struggling embrace, silently trying to undermine the other. He didn't have to touch her to make her cringe in this moment.
Kendra wasn't sure how long she was going to hold out. Gavin, like the Sphinx and other certain members of the society, was infamous for patience and cunning. In a battle of will, Kendra stood slim chance of outlasting him. She resolved to hold her ground for as long as possible.
For a small eternity, these two souls combated. Initially, there was a round of the Quiet Game. When he had understood her angle, which didn't take long, he switched tactics.
Using his physical presence, he imposed. Kendra dismissed him by slouching disinterestedly. He searched her eyes, sparring with her at different volumes of condescension. She deflected using blank, empty stares. He spoke harshly, reaching blood curdling crescendos; then seductively, whispering sickly-sweet nothings; then in superior tones, yielding an incessant repetition of facts intended to disembowel her from "below the belt". Kendra denied him nothing, and thereby everything.
Eventually, he removed his arms, giving Kendra some relief (she was careful not to show it, lest he see through her ruse). Kendra heard everything he said. Each truth, lie, and unspoken manipulation she had valiantly took under the facade. Nevertheless, she heard and was wounded deeper each time.
Had she lived the life of an abused child, she might have been relieved by some defense mechanism – have the ability to build a wall with each word until she was safely shielded from the maelstrom of hurt. However, Kendra had known nothing but love from her immediate family. That said, her control in situation was commendable, but Kendra took no pride in the game. The toll it was taking on her weathered all emotions down, till she was in a daze.
She was going to pass out. Not this time, Imaginary Seth spoke with a softness that she had never heard her brother use.
She was vaguely aware that Gavin was backing up. When had he stopped speaking?
Was he panting? Was that sweat streaming from the corners of his eyes?
"You think you will win this war, as you've managed to win all of the battles. You are wrong Kendra Sorenson. You cannot win. Not this time. My Master is an entity of iniquity from before the dawn of time. He is more than the Evening Star. More than the night. Inside him is an abysmal chasm of insidious wrath. He is absolute obscurity." Gavin's voice was filled with reverence.
He stepped back slowly until he reached the wall. His eyes, which had been looking past her, came back to settle on Kendra.
"You wondered if my reappearance had anything to do with necromancy. I will elaborate. Perhaps I should not reveal the whole of this to you, but if it will aid you in understanding that resistance is futile, I will accept the risk. I will tell you my story."
Gavin absently tucked a tuft of his hair behind his ear. A nervous habit? Kendra wondered.
A pause.
"The First King of the dragons was there when light first came into the world. He watched Mankind's creation from dust, he bided the eons. Millenniums of power were his. The draconic race was feared and respected. Then he was not called the First King, because he was the only king. His authority was never questioned among the dragons, because in size and power he was unrivaled. His law, which was that of Chaos, was adhered to religiously. Dragon eat dragon – and every other living creature – was the rule. He was the complete opposite of Celebrant; ignoble, unjust, deliberately malicious.
An age drove him into madness, any semblance of order vanished, and the condition the dragons lived in became unbearable. At the start of fifteenth century dragons were tired of dealing with "knights in shining armor" (also known as self-realized dragon tamers) who were making a sport of killing our kind. They wouldn't have been able to nearly as easily as they did, talk went, if dragons of the day weren't so malnourished. The dragons were constantly fighting over food (which was scarce at the time), treasure hoards, lairs, etcetera. Chaos allowed for them to destroy each other. They were living, they said, in a state of "endless recovery".
Talk of revolution did not perturb the Father of all Hatchlings. He was not unwise to it, – the dragons who were devoted to him were constantly vying to get his ear with such information they could scour - he simply did not think any would dare challenge him.
What happened was similar to the myth of the Titan Kronos' downfall. The King had many off-spring. One of his brood was called Celebrant. Celebrant had learned the secrets of knowledge, and drank deep from the fountain of wisdom called "man". Celebrant decided that his king was no longer the type of king that the dragons needed. Progress of the humans meant less freedom for the dragons. Compromises would have to be made to preserve the species. The First King would never agree to anything of the kind. Therefore, he had to go. But go where?
While Celebrant brewed over this, he rallied a host of dragons behind him – along with several dragon tamers, whom he had made some sort of classified pact with. He thought his subterfuge was undiscovered but of course the First King always knew Celebrant's plans.
When Celebrant reached his lair the First King had already made up his mind on how he was going to handle the situation. The Father of all Hatchlings was agitated by this day dreamer's audacity. What's more, the dragon king had, for once in his long life, felt uneasy. Celebrant had managed delude more dragons than the First King would have ever thought. And dragon tamers! The idea! No, the First King was going to have to deal with this dragon swiftly and mercilessly.
Celebrant approached the First King seemingly alone. His friends were on the outside of the king's home, fighting with the large majority of dragons who had declared fealty to the dragon crown. That was what his army was for. His face off with the King was his own.
The First King sat surrounded by ten dragons – those closest to him - some female, whom were his concubines, some male who made up his 'guard', and a couple of hatchlings fresh out of their eggs that he sent his 'guards' to retrieve whenever he was hungry.
'You dare challenge me?' The First King had hissed.
In reply Celebrant did the one thing that the First King did not expect. He stepped aside to reveal what appeared to be a human. The First King laughed heartily at Celebrant's expense.
'Fool! No mere dragon tamer can subdue the Father of all Hatchlings!'
'But I,' the man had stated calmly, 'am no human.' The King did not hear him, and went on laughing. If only he had considered this man!" Gavin suddenly cried out causing Kendra to jump. Gavin went on, lost in the story.
"This man as you may guess was a wizard. All dragons had a human avatar, they knew. But a wizard had never been heard of in those days.
The end goes that the wizard was a greater match for the Father of all Hatchlings. This wizard was already well on in his life. He was a mighty enchanter, having spent centuries learning about and discovering magic of all kinds. It has been speculated that this wizard was the greatest to ever live. He had spent his life in hiding from the dragon king, imposing self-inflicted exile. How Celebrant managed to find him was never known.
The wizard, while the First King was still laughing at Celebrant, asked if any of the dragons who were sided with king would reconsider. None would. With a rueful smile he began chanting. A signal from the wizard sent Celebrant indiscreetly escaping.
When the First King realized what was happening, it was already too late. The wizard trapped him in his lair with a curse that surpassed all those that came before it or after. Specifically he named the King, but he included a clause for all dragons with spirits wholly consumed by Chaos to remain trapped forever in the prison."
Gavin had Kendra raptured at this point. Kendra could see it all happening. And she felt she knew where Gavin was going. Yet there were details she was missing that were needed to complete the puzzle.
"The wizard swiftly walked out with an incensed dragon king on his heels. But when the king tried cross the threshold of his cave, he found that he could not. An invisible, but very real, very strong barrier had been placed there. This did not stop him from trying, but in vain. The wizard, that wizard," Gavin spat, "that Sairon Mirima," Kendra felt her breath hitch in her throat. "told him 'I denounce you as king. Forthwith, you are no longer the authority of the dragon species. Your heir, Celebrant, is now and forevermore, the King of the Dragons.'
The First King raged for hours. The sight of their king defeated was enough for all of the dragons who had previously sworn their undying love to announce their immediate withdrawal and submission. Victory was the revolutionaries. Celebrant became king and a new world order was instated.
What of the First King? His guards and his concubines were almost all capable of leaving. No one came, except for the occasionally ensnared dragon who was forced against his will into the First King's prison by some doer of 'good'. The First King, as previously said was mad and cruel. He preferred Chaos always. After the event of losing his kingdom the First King was now filled with hatred too.
He loathed Celebrant. He despised Sairon Mirima, and all others of his kind. He detested that which was created from light, which was made from order, which was good. He would in time avenge himself, but he needed a way to keep up with the goings on of the outside world.
One of the hatchlings, who had been an intended meal for the First King, had refused to leave the prison with the others. He had been abandoned by his parents, and had no interest in the wide world. He found comfort in the bleakness of the prison. Looking around him, the young dragon felt as though his soul had been crafted into a home. It was the personification of melancholia, emptiness, and antipathy." Gavin murmured demurely. "So he had stayed."
"The First King called the young one to him. He earned his trust, watched over him, let the boy call him 'Master'. He struggled to keep the hatchling from utter mental and emotional destitution, as it went against his nature to do so. He sent the young one out periodically to glean information about the evolving world.
The First King learned that Sairon Mirima had previously been a sea dragon – a rare and unusual kind of dragon, that wasn't a serpentine, wingless monster, but simply a dragon who was born with part of his heart made from salt water. Sairon Mirima had started an order of wizards who helped found and worked alongside the Knight of the Dawn to make the preserves and sanctuaries that you are familiar with.
Celebrant was virtually untouchable, much to the First King's chagrin. Sairon Mirima, however, was not so exclusively protected. On the contrary, he lead a considerably vulnerable way of life. He was living with some had-been mermaid or nymph or siren of some kind off the Japanese coast. With this in mind, the First King began to plot.
He had the young dragon bring him paraphernalia that would teach him what he had failed to know, what Sairon Mirima had known. The young dragon was his Master's lifeline. His Master lived off of the stories of mischief the dragon came back with. Everything from consorting with demons, to making a preserve fall, to razing small villages. His pride was at a climax when the dragon came home bearing the honorary title of Demon Prince. Now that was quite the story…" Gavin broke off, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a twisted smirk. Kendra bit the inside of cheeks to resist the impulse to turn away.
It took Gavin a while to recover from his reverie. At length, he began again.
"His Master was endlessly plagued by troubles. He frequently argued with himself about the particulars of a number of plans he had thought up to extract his revenge on those who had imprisoned him. He fretted over each detail in an obsessive manner.
His distress was heightened when he could not find a means of removing the enchantments placed on the prison. The only way he might be able to was if he became a wizard, which was something he refused to do. In time it became increasingly apparent to the First King that he would have to use an instrument to accomplish his means. Not as satisfying, but effective nonetheless.
The young hatchling had grown into an impressively deviant dragon. But still he was allowed to come and go as he pleased. His heart was not consumed by Chaos. He knew that it was important to his Master than he remained as he was, so kept preserved that distant shred of - what was it exactly? He never could be certain. It was guesswork for him.
Order is, by definition, the opposite of chaos, so the dragon kept a tight schedule. A routine. Furthermore, he did not allow despair to overtake him. Despair, the First King told him, was what kept himself in the prison. He could not think of a way to overcome it entirely.
The First King made a plan and confided into his boy. The plan was this:
He had his prodigy go one night and take his avatar form. The dragon boy met up with a Japanese child, a street urchin. He paid him in gold to go into the abode of Sairon Mirima and his female friend and slit their throats. As a child, he got past the wards of Sairon Mirima easily. Neither of them even awakened. Less pain than the wizard deserved, but he was gone, and that was the important thing to the First King.
The First King was inordinately pleased that his tyro had been successful. He congratulated the boy on his execution. The dragon's soul swelled with pride at the sound of his Master's praise. Unfortunately, their triumphant feelings were short lived.
The very next time the dragon went out in avatar form, he was ambushed and captured. His captors cast spells, handicapping him from being able to return to his natural form. The man who seemed to be in charge of the posse was called by his fellow conspirators, the Sphinx."
The name sent a shiver down Kendra's spine. This time Gavin noticed her reaction. His eyes searched hers for a prolonged minute. Still, he continued on.
"The dragon was condemned, put into the Quiet Box indefinitely for his crimes. The boy simply let them do as they would, and did not say a word to anybody. His loyalty and faith began and ended with his Master.
The day came for him to be confined. The Sphinx was in charge of delivering him to Fablehaven, and, upon arrival, transferring him into the Quiet Box. The boy didn't know whose place he was taking. Someone the Knights of the Dawn distrusted less than him. What did he care?
Just as the Sphinx was putting the dragon-boy into the Box, he spoke a few words that caused the boy's spirits to rise. Concisely worded, breathed into his air, they inspired confidence, sent him in, concealing beneath his robes, a smile. Words that kept a shred of his sanity while he was inside the Quiet Box."
Kendra found she was holding her breath when Gavin spoke, "They were 'I am loyal to the First King, True King, the Father of all Hatchlings, the Master."
Here Gavin shifted for a moment, having forgotten Kendra again. When he began for a final time he dropped the transparent pretense. "My Master had maintained correspondence with people, having me drop letters off in different locations. I know now that the majority of those letters were for members of the Society, namely the Sphinx. When I was released from the Quiet Box I immediately sought out my Master.
He put me in the service of the Sphinx. He believed in the man, the Society, their work. When I died however,"
Gavin sharply looked up at Kendra. His gaze sent a wave of uneasiness over Kendra. His eyes were so lackluster all of a sudden. Like the life had gone out of him.
"He soon lost faith. The Sphinx no longer sent him information. Without his trusted servant he was losing his cards. The opportunities were slipping away. So there was one option left to him.
As previously mentioned, he didn't want to become a wizard. His prejudice against Sairon Mirima prevented him seeing the benefits of the situation. Nevertheless, he underwent transformation for the last time, and became a wizard.
Using all the knowledge he had at his disposal he spent long hours preparing for what no wizard had ever done.
I know you're wondering why he didn't just take down the barrier by himself at this point." Gavin licked his dry lips. "I did too at first. But don't forget he's mad, crazed, senile. Any wizard could take down or put up a barrier, he told me, but only one wizard has ever restored the gift of life. I don't know." He blurted out, as if unable to control himself any longer.
Kendra raised an eyebrow.
"I can't remember." Gavin shrugged. He slumped against the wall. "I don't know what it was like being dead." His voice had become coarse "I know I the pain was searing the split second before that awful fairy dragon finished me entirely." A solitary bead of sweat trickled down from Gavin's nose. His teeth were clenched. "And then I woke up, and it hurt still, but not as much."
"My Master was overjoyed at my return. He told me of what happened to him, what he had become. He asked me a bunch of questions about the afterlife that I didn't have the answers too. I tried to remember, but I couldn't."
"I guess he was a little disappointed in me for that. But mostly he was proud of himself.
Shortly thereafter he maneuvered the barrier so that we both could leave as we pleased. Yet he hasn't gone out to this day. Early on I couldn't understand what was holding him back but now I suspect…"
He stopped short. He straightened his back. Someone, somewhere, flipped a switch. "I've already said too much," he said to himself in a mumble that Kendra only just heard.
He swiftly broke off from the wall, sauntered briskly up the stairs, muttering inaudibly to himself under his breath.
Without even a sideways glance in her direction, he exited – unwittingly leaving Kendra alone to process all that she'd recently discovered.