Catching Dragons: Destiny Defined, #2

By Stephanie Ayers

A reluctant hero, an enchanted kingdom, a crazed prince...

Out of the ashes of doubt, courage is born.

As Derik whisks Edgar away from Willowglen where he'd been championing the dwarves, he can't help but wonder what has really happened to his kingdom since his departure. Tales of an attack from the sky and an army of black knights precede him, and nothing is as Edgar expects when he arrives back home in Northend. His city lies under an enchantment, and they need him to break it. Tasked with regaining his lost magick and armed with a pouch of fairy dust, Edgar is determined to do the right thing.
 

Will he find the courage to confront the man responsible for his father's death or will he run away like the coward Derik believes him to be?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crazy Ink
• Release date: Aug 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393541875

Book preview

Prologue

Noise arose from beyond the city walls. The crier stopped yelling. The children stopped playing. The blacksmith stopped hammering.  The court stopped advising King Teodric, who listened with bated breath.  It sounded like a thousand trees had taken up a march, stomping in cadence toward the stone walls of the city. Derik rushed from the courtyard.

Close the gate! Close the gate! Fredryk, captain of the guild, cried. Where are the scouts? Send them!

We did, sir. They haven’t returned, his first in command answered.

Then we must fight, now. Archers, take position!

Twenty-five archers rushed to the top of the wall that surrounded the town.

To arms, men! To arms! Fredryk commanded further. Ten knights evacuated the bailey, leaving room for the remaining thirty knights to gather and get ready. Two manned the portcullis, quickly slashing its ropes to seal them from whatever made the noises beyond the walls. Another twenty waited within the tower on the keep, to defend the king’s chambers.

Fredryk grit his teeth, proud that his army was prepared for danger so quickly. He ran to the wall, joining his archers, hoping for a view of their attackers before nightfall snuffed out the sun.

Now, Derik! Fredryk demanded. Derik pulled his sword from his sheath and took his battle stance next to his brother.

A bolt of lightning struck from within the trees, and the portcullis cracked in two. Black armored bodies charged from the Wynnrar Woods, crashed through the wounded gate, and clashed with the waiting soldiers. Bradok and Rydar joined the battle in the bailey. Derik tried to keep them in his sight, but the battle drew them away. Something above cast a shadow against the dusky sky, and he found himself surrounded by black knights.

Fireballs burst from this shadow, engulfing the archers on the south wall in flames. Derik crouched in fright, and as he did, he saw Fredryk fall. A woman, her hair as red as the fire, entered the bailey. The black knights surrounding Derik fell back and let her pass. She strode purposefully, slowly, to where he hid behind a clump of bushes. She pulled out a long sword and pressed its tip against his throat. Pain pierced his adam’s apple, wetness trickled down his neck, and he lowered his sword.

Please! My father is the king! My brothers have fallen. I am the lone survivor to inherit the crown. I demand parley! Bile rose from his stomach, and he choked on his words.

The woman pressed the tip of her sword against the bottom of his chin and jerked it upwards, forcing him to rise. She stepped forward as she rose, maintaining the pressure. As her blade penetrated his flesh, he stepped backwards and escaped it. He stepped to the right as she stepped forward and swung out as she came closer. His arms burned as the sword connected with her chainmail. Fire surged through his forearm as she countered and knocked his sword away. He slashed again, this time feeling his blade sink into soft flesh. She stumbled and fell to the stone pavement, rage filling her lilac-colored eyes.

Chapter 1: Time Shortage

Edgar shivered and pulled his cape tighter around him. The Barren was almost as cold during the day as it was at night. Derik moved swiftly, at a pace Edgar’s shorter legs had a difficult time matching. His lips were pressed firmly together. Silence surrounded them, and fear gripped Edgar’s heart.

Derik, please tell me what’s going on.

No, not until we break. The desert is better traveled during the day, and I would prefer to get across it before sunset.

You realize how big this desert is? It took me two days to cross it, and that was with me traveling during the day, too! Edgar protested. This silent journey with his brother wore on him worse than the lone travel had.

I do, but I daresay we have already crossed half. If we continue at this pace, we should cover most of it before the moon rises. Now please, Edgar. Silence.

I don’t see why we can’t walk and talk!

Derik sighed with impatience. It slows us down. I said I would tell you, and I will. What’s imperative is that we get back to our kingdom in time.

You say things like that, and then you don’t elaborate. That’s not fair.

"You just have to trust me. Now, come on."

I must rest. It has been a very long day for me, Derik. Please. I understand there’s urgency, but we will move faster once I rest.

Fine. Derik set his pack on the sand and opened it. He dug in it for a moment before pulling out a blanket and spread it out on the sand. Sit. Close your eyes, and I’ll tell you what happened.

Edgar gratefully laid back, tucked his arms under his head for support, crossed his ankles, and closed his eyes.

It all began with the counselor’s dream, Derik began. "A baby girl was born full grown rather than the infant she should have been. She had fiery red hair and eyes the color of a summer lilac blossom. Orphaned at birth and because of her strange appearance, the village shunned her. They believed she was inhuman and wanted nothing to do with her. When anything bad happened, they blamed her.

"Still she managed to survive, but then the worst happened—on her sixteenth birthday, the king’s twins died during childbirth. What should have been a time of celebration became outrage. Villagers stormed her small hut with lit torches and banished her to the woods.

"‘From this day forward, vengeance will be mine. You’ll die and your seed will perish with you!’ she shouted as she ran through the forest. Though no one ever saw her again, bad things continued to happen.

"As the days passed, shame filled the people as they realized it was not her fault. Wanting to right their wrong, they sent out their greatest warrior to find her and bring her back, hoping that by doing so, they would be favored by the gods once more. A fortnight they waited for his return; when he did not, they sent their second greatest warrior into the forest after him. This they foolishly repeated until they had none left but their weakest and youngest warriors, leaving their village undefended. A great whooping emerged from the trees, and a shadow lingered over the sun. The people looked up in fear. A strange fiery red creature, with large, brilliant lilac eyes, flew overhead. From its mouth fell fire-filled breaths and roars that shook the ground and echoed through the hills.

"The people ran for the woods, hoping to hide within the trees, but the trees betrayed them. Their long limbs plucked at skirts and leggings, tripping villagers. Some heaved the people back into the village to face the wrath of the red-scaled creature. Huts went up in smoke, the livestock burned in the fields, and crops were razed and ravaged before the creature’s fury blinked out. The creature disappeared in a blast of blue lightning cast from the fingers of the woman. She stepped from the soot with confidence before disappearing back into the woods.

The few who remained sent out a search party in pursuit of the woman, as well as their warriors. The warriors they found, their bodies broken and dismembered at the bottom of a ravine. The woman could not be found. The eerie cackle of the creature could be heard in the near distance, so the search party raced home. The people began to rebuild, but the crops never grew the same. Eventually they moved on, leaving the town in as much desolation as the creature had.

Edgar groaned. The creature in Derik’s story sounded an awful lot like the dragon he conjured during the game. I don’t understand what that has to do with our city and our father.

Derik shook his head. I wasn’t finished. Wallas shared the story with Father several years ago. We didn’t understand what it meant and laughed it off as an old fool’s tale. However, a fortnight ago it happened. We were invaded from the woods surrounding Northend. His voice faded as sorrow overcame him. I watched Fredryk fall. Bradok and Rydar disappeared.

Edgar’s voice broke Derik from his reverie. Oh no! Are they all dead then? He thought fondly of his brothers. Fredryk, the second oldest, was tasked to lead the army and always waited in preparation, though they had no cause to wage war since his father was his age. It was his role to his kingdom, since he would never wear the crown unless something happened to Derik, the eldest. He did not mind his role, as it suited his nature, anyway. It surprised him how well each brother was suited to his role within the kingdom—all except Edgar.

The youngest of the five, he received the role of mage, as was the custom in their kingdom. His fiasco in magick school had cost him this role. As punishment, their father had sent him off to find the Great Mage, Harmlet. Edgar was missed by them all, but most especially by Fredryk. Bradok, the youngest triplet, was too busy tending to the armory and ensuring the walls would stand in an attack. Rydar, older by two years, set about keeping the moral values instilled within their community. Crime was a rarity as a result. Derik did what Derik always did, and that was keep the king company, as he learned the ins and outs of running a kingdom successfully. There was more than just their city to worry about. The surrounding villages scattered throughout the Wynnrar Woods and Galentown all served under King Teodric, as well. All of these accepted the princes and respected their roles within the kingdom.

I hope not. I honestly don’t know, as I left the city to search for you. The people depend on you to protect them from outside forces. Trouble arrived, and you weren’t there.

Edgar looked at Derik curiously. Father didn’t send you to find me? I thought you said... His voice trailed off as his mind tried to remember everything Derik had said since his appearance at Tribba’s house.

Well, not directly. He told me the day you left that if there was ever trouble and you had not yet returned, I was to find you above all else and bring you home. It was expected that you’d have regained your magick by now, which you haven’t.

Edgar’s eyes squinted shut. This particular habit of Derik’s to change the conversation had always annoyed him. I didn’t know I was on trial, Edgar muttered. Mother always taught me to be kind and generous, helping those who request it always. I had no reason to turn down Tribba’s request, so I didn’t. I’m a stronger, different person than the one who left Northend.

Derik spat. She’s a dwarf. Dwarves are beneath humans. I don’t know what a dwarf could possibly teach anyone.

I daresay that any other race would put humans beneath them, and I believe we are all equal. All of us, even the trolls. The things Edgar had seen along his journey thus far had taught him that everyone serves a valid purpose, no matter how small or large. Suddenly, he felt sorry for Derik. There were some people you liked immediately, some you think you might learn to like in the fullness of time, and some you simply want to push away from you with a sharp stick.  Derik was the latter type. Perhaps his brother had never stopped thinking of himself long enough to view the world through other people’s eyes.

Bah! Trolls! They serve no purpose other than to destroy, Derik scoffed. As for Mother, she’s made you soft because she couldn’t do it to the rest of us. Why do you think everyone calls you ‘Edgar, the small and slight’? God forbid, with our brothers dead, that anything happen to me. You are not fit to be king! Derik ignored the tears that sprang to Edgar’s eyes. Up, now. We’ve had enough rest. It’s time to move on.

Edgar, not wanting his brother to see his tears, ran his tunic sleeve across his face as he rose. If I’m such a failure, why are you taking me back? There’s nothing I can do. I’m useless, Edgar said in a low voice. Derik barely heard him.

I don’t know why either, except Father said so. Apparently, he must see some worth in you, but what it is, I can’t tell you, Derik said.

Fredryk would know. He’s always believed in me.

Derik sighed. Ah, Edgar. I believe in you, too. You just test my belief too often.

Derik did not sound sincere to Edgar. Perhaps he had been picked on by Derik too often. Rather than say anything more, he just inhaled deeply and released it slowly, his smaller feet keeping step with Derik’s longer ones as they walked the desert once more.

The silence overwhelmed Edgar, and he let his mind wander. The image of the woman refused to leave him. He saw her fiery red curls topped with a crown and lightning danced on her fingertips. He thought about the dragon he conjured, remembering how large it was, and how fiery its scales gleamed in the sunlight. Edgar thought he could hear the beating of its wings behind them. He shuddered stiffly, and Derik broke the silence.

Edgar! Derik stopped moving