The Sorcerer's Legacy

By Tim Lee

Four thousand years ago a battle between good and evil took place. An evil sorcerer was cast into exile for four thousand years, but escaped from that exile a few years before it would end in present day. Drexol and his dragon wreak havoc. Beltzemar, the good sorcerer, cast a spell that would give a descendant of his in the future powers to use to fight Drexol. That descendant is Nicky. With the help of a cat, Kwadjol, that Beltzemar gave powers to, one being the ability to speak, Nicky prepares for the battle to come against Drexol, and is introduced to a dragon, Zaylok, who will be his familiar. A story of good fighting evil, but with the magic and battle continuing in the world as we know it now, and going back in time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365272189

Book preview

The Sorcerer's Legacy

The Sorcerers Legacy

Tim Lee

Copyright (c) 2016 by Tim Hoffner

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincindental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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To Bruce LeMaster. Thank you so much for helping me to publish novel and for being such an awesome friend.

To Father Bob (Rev. Bernard R. Bonnot). Without your help publishing my stories would not be happening. Thank you for be so supportive and for being such a wonderful friend and person.

To Aidan Meenaghan. My friend and brother. Thank you for being so supportive over these years that we have known each other. You have a huge love of fantasy novels, and I am glad that I wrote one. I started writing it before we met, and finished it afterward. I hope you enjoy reading it. And, thank you so much for introducing me to the Gotrek & Felix book series.

Thank you to everyone who believes in me and has been supportive of my writing, and of me. It means a lot and I'm very grateful. All of you have made a positive difference in my life and I'm very grateful to all of you for that.

I love to watch movies and read books. They bring joy into my life, but also inspire, motivate, and give me hope. Thank you to those who make films and those who write books.

Author's Note:

In late 2004 or early 2005 I woke up one morning and in the span of about two minutes the storyline of this novel played out in my mind. It is the second novel I wrote, but the first fantasy story. I like writing different stories, not sticking to just one genre. When I began writing this novel I did not intend to tie it in with some screenplays I wrote later, but it happened to work out that I was able to do that. Sometimes things like that happen, and sometimes it is very beneficial. Thinking of a story and characters to write is not difficult for me to do. The problem is having the time to write those stories. I have to budget my time between various things. Creating a world with words is a really wonderful things to do. Writing is a very wonderful form of art, and a great way for a person to express themselves. I had a desire to write when I was young, but I never wrote anything. I did not read any novels when I was younger. I liked to look at car magazines, because I was, and still am, someone who has a great love of cars.

A person who writes should read books on a regular basis, because that will help them to become better writers. I advise watching a lot of movies as well, because doing so will help a person to use their imagination and think of stories to write.

For those out there who have dreams and want those dreams to happen, just do it. Take that first step on that path and pursue your dreams. Don't let others tell you that you can't do something. The most important thing to remember is that you have the ability to learn. The ability to learn and your desire to succeed are the most important factors. Whatever you do make sure it is something you are passionate about, because when you are doing something you are passionate about and enjoy doing you are a happier person, and that will be evident in all areas of your life.

Chapter 1

Thousands of years ago the mysterious powers and unusual beings existed that account for the many myths that we hear about as children, and throughout our lives. Warlocks, sorcerers, and other strange unfamiliar things we have never seen and do not really understand receive little, if any, respect or fear from people these days. Talk of dragons and such actually existing brings forth a laugh or chuckle of mild amusement, and then the matter is quickly dismissed, never taken seriously.

So many different accounts have been made of history, through text and folklore, that many people aren't sure what to believe. Many people do not believe that such creatures existed on this planet, and find it inconceivable that such horrific things could have happened the way they are told. That an ongoing war between good and evil was fiercely fought, and had been for many, many centuries. Wizards, sorcerers, or magicians, however one chooses to refer to such beings, the ability for such people to have unusual and gifted, yet fearful, powers is something that people find unfathomable. They did, however, exist.

I can't do it! the young man said.

You must concentrate, the old wizard told him.

I am trying, Beltzemar, but I am unable. The wishes of the gods above must not be happy with me.

Nonsense! Beltzemar said quickly. Artimus, my boy, it is all in your mind, and only you are preventing yourself from succeeding. This discussion we have already had.

Yes. Artimus said. I know. I shall try harder.

"I expect nothing less. I do not ask that you try harder, but that you

concentrate. I will not ask anything of you that is not within your ability. This is why I know you can do it."

Artimus stared at the object again that had been the focus of his attention just moments before. The object was a large purple egg, lying on a wooden shelf, surrounded by various glass bottles and flasks that contained different kinds of liquids and other things. He closed his eyes and began breathing slowly as he cleared his mind, concentrating. He opened his eyes after a minute, staring at the egg. Minutes passed and nothing happened.

Concentrate my boy. Beltzemar said.

Artimus took a slow, deep breath, and once again stared at the egg. His focus was intense, his attention undivided. A minute passed before anything happened. The egg started to move slightly, then wobble, and finally rose up from the table and moved through the air toward them.

I told you, you could do it! Beltzemar said, happy and approving. Beltemar tapped his head with his finger. It's all up here boy.

No sooner had he said those words when Beltzemar's cat, Kwadjol, jumped up on the table beside Artimus, surprising him. As a result his concentration was lost on the task at hand, and the egg fell from the air and hit the wooden floor, breaking.

Well, I suppose that is my good deed for the day, the cat said.

How pleasant for you to greet us with your usual and ever so pleasant disposition, Kwadjol. Beltzemar said.

Kwadjol was basically a normal feline, with the exception that he could talk, though he had not always had that ability. Beltzemar had taken a liking to him one day and brought him home and had given him the ability, through a spell, to talk. A decision which he sometimes regretted. This day, however, was a first. Not for him to talk, but the fact that he had done so in front of someone other than Beltzemar.

The creature can speak!. Artimus said, in disbelief.

Yes. Beltzemar said. A gift that I bestowed upon him, which, at such moments as this, I find distasteful.

Ah, yes, said Kwadjol. But, you could always take the gift of speech away from me, Beltzemar, oh great and mighty sorcerer.

I heard of such things, but I did not believe them. I thought that it was the talk of fools. Artimus said.

No, my boy. It is true. Beltzemar said, looking at Kwadjol.

Why do you not take away its ability to speak?. Artimus asked.

Yes, old man. Kwadjol said. Why don't you?.

Very well, Beltzemar said. But, first things first. Beltzemar looked down at the broken egg on the floor. He rubbed his hands together and waved them over the egg. The egg came back together and was whole again. It was as though the egg had never been broken. He picked up the egg and set it back on the shelf where it had first been. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Why can't I take back the ability of speech that I have bestowed upon this beastly furball? When a good sorcerer gives a gift out of friendship or love he cannot take it away. Kwadjol knows that and from time to time antagonizes me with that knowledge.

Did you tell it that? Artimus asked.

I am a he, not an it, dear boy. Kwadjol said. That egg is an it.

My apologies. Artimus said.

Hmph!. Kwadjol said and licked one of his paws.

To answer your question, no. Beltzemar said. I did not tell him. Along with giving him, regrettably, the ability to speak, he said, glancing at Kwadjol, I also gave him the ability to read. He was reading one of my books and learned that, and since then he has been, to say the least, obnoxious and annoying.

Hindsight is sometimes a rather unpleasant experience I dare say. Kwadjol said. Isn't it old man?.

Do you see what I mean?. Beltzemar said.

Yes.

And, Beltzemar said, looking at Kwadjol, how could you possibly conclude that startling someone was your good deed for the day?.

Not startling the boy, old man. Kwadjol said. Seeing him drop that vile egg and watching it break. No good has ever come from a dragon's egg, and never will. Creatures with hair cannot be trusted, just as trolls shouldn't be.

Your concept of trust, my furry friend, is rather harsh, and somewhat arrogant. Just like your attitude about me enabling you to speak and read, among other things. Wouldn't you say?

No. I do not trust trolls or dragons, or anything devoid of hair. Was it not for the fact that you still have some hair on your head old man I would not trust you either. I will hold fast to my opinion regarding that and shall not change it.

I can do no more than respect that as your choice, and from time to time try to change your opinion. To be trustworthy and a friend comes from within and not from the appearance one sees of another.

That may very well be so. Kwadjol said. But, as far as I'm concerned hairless means useless and trustless.

My dear friend, Beltzemar said, with a slight smile, you may know that you can antagonize me because I cannot take away the abilities I have given you, but do not think that I cannot do things to you to bring myself satisfaction in the course of teaching you a valuable lesson. Do you wonder what it would be like for you to have no hair?

You wouldn't dare? Kwadjol said, with apparent discomfort.

Try me furball. Beltzemar smiled.

What a hideous thing to say to such a beautiful and pleasant feline as myself. Why, to say such a thing is just plain mean, old friend.

Ah! Beltzemar said, laughing heartily. I'm your old friend again. What would I do without you, Kwadjol? You always delight me and bring such joy into my life. I wouldn't do any such thing to you.

That's comforting. Kwadjol said, feeling at ease.

Well, I wouldn't leave you that way for very long if I did.

One day may a dragon find you as an appetizing alternative to its usual source of food. Kwadjol said.

Your insults have become much more creative over the years. Beltzemar said. Be fortunate my boy that you do not have to deal with such a personality under your own roof. I think a man of lesser patience would have gone insane and either killed himself or made a tasty stew out of the cat. Wouldn't you agree?

Yes. Artimus said.

How barbaric! Kwadjol said and jumped down off the table. I can see my company here is far from appreciated or respected. I bid you gentlemen good day. A moment later he was gone from the room.

Would you teach me how to give animals the ability to speak?

Maybe. Beltzemar said. Maybe not. Having the ability to do such things requires exercising self-control, and recognizing the responsibility that comes with being able to do so. Otherwise, you end up with an obnoxious, opinionated, and rather intelligent Kwadjol, my boy. Understand?

Yes. I believe I do.

Good. Beltzemar said, placing a hand on the young man's back. Come. We must go out and get some things for work that I must do later.

More spells? Artimus asked, with curious enthusiasm.

Some, yes. Beltzemar said and walked past him. Some things I am almost depleted of, and those items need to be replaced. He turned slightly and waved a hand. Come.

The two left Beltzemar's humble, yet amazing, home, which was in the deepest part of the largest, and most eerie, forest in the region. Oddly, much to the surprise of many, Beltzemar enjoyed, and preferred, living where he did. He was a bit of a recluse and very rarely did anyone venture into the forest, let alone come near his home. And, other creatures, for the most part, did not want to bother the sorcerer for fear of what he could turn them into, which many felt would  make them look entirely different than their current physical form. Though he would do no such thing out of anger or in spite of someone or intended him no harm, it was still the remote possibility of such an event taking place that kept them away, that and the fact that very strange things would happen from time to time where he lived.

Artimus never ceased to be amazed at Beltzemar's powers. It wasn't the big things that amazed Artimus, but the small things that the old wizard did that awed him, such as the one at that very moment. It was pouring down rain when they had stepped outside, but Beltzemar had moved his hand and mumbled something and the rain was hitting an invisible shield a few feet above them. As they walked the invisible shield followed, staying over them. It was a strange sensation to look up and see heavy rain coming down at you, but not hit you when nothing was above you, except something diverting it which you could not see. He was more amazed the first time he had come to the old wizard's home. It was five years before when he'd met Beltzemar in the village that he lived in. Beltzemar had offered him some gold to carry the items that he'd purchased, and he'd agreed to, but with some unsure feelings. People did not enter the Oksweo forest unless it was absolutely necessary. But, he needed the gold very badly for his family. Therefore, he'd accepted.

When Beltzemar had told him they'd arrived he thought he was crazy, because there was nothing in front of them, or anywhere else in any direction. Beltzemar had took a few steps forward and vanished. Artimus had become very scared at that moment, but then a moment later Beltzemar reappeared and motioned for him to follow. He wasn't sure what to do. They'd come a long way since entering the forest and he was certain he wouldn't be able to make it out of the forest without encountering someone, or something, that would harm him, or worse. With serious doubts, he'd walked forward to the place where Beltzemar had disappeared. He had been speechless. Beyond the point where Beltzemar had disappeared was a modest, though slightly larger than normal, structure. It was easy to figure out that it was where the old wizard lived. He had been amazed, and confused. He knew there had been nothing in view before them and that this structure had not been there, but there it had been. Beltzemar had told him that he'd cast a spell over it which prevented it from being seen by anyone except for certain individuals. And, if they walked toward it the spell would immediately transport them to the other side of it and give them a dizzy, and rather disturbing, feeling that would leave them with the sense of only wanting to leave that area quickly. Little things like that did wonders for a person's privacy. Artimus had asked him how he'd done it and Beltzemar told him maybe he'd show him one day. Ever since that day a friendship had been forged, as well as that of a mentor-apprentice relationship.

A few days later a troll named Frax arrived at Beltzemar's. Frax was a friend Beltzemar had known for about a hundred years. Beltzemar himself was a little over three hundred and fifty years old. Frax brought word that there was trouble, grave trouble, not far from their land.

There was a very evil, and powerful, sorcerer named Drexol terrorizing the land and bringing death to many. Drexol was, without a doubt, the most vile and evil sorcerer that Betzemar had ever encountered, though he had not always been. The lure of great power that came with evil had won Drexol over many, many decades earlier, when he was young and still learning magic. When a sorcerer reaches a certain point of development he must choose whether he shall be a good sorcerer or an evil sorcerer. Drexol chose the latter. From that point on the two of them had become the greatest of enemies, but not without Beltzemar trying to convince him that no good would come of his being an evil sorcerer.

Drexol had a great many followers, which was no surprise. It was always easier to join the masses that were doing wrong than to stand with the few who believed in what was righteous and good, a fact that has proven itself throughout history.

The news that Frax had brought was rather disturbing to Beltzemar. Not just because it was horrific to think about, but because it was news that specifically applied to him. Drexol was roaming the land in search of all sorcerers who opposed him and was killing them, as well as those who stood with them. Beltzemar knew that Drexol would be coming to see him. There was no doubt about that. His feelings about Drexol and opposition of everything the evil sorcerer stood for and did were no secret.

At first he had not paid much attention to what Frax said in regards to Drexol, until Frax told him about the spell Drexol had discovered that rendered another sorcerer powerless and mortally vulnerable for a brief period of time. That had gained his undivided attention. Beltzemar asked Frax how he had learned that information. He responded by telling him that word had spread quickly by those who had seen it happen to the others already. The answer to Beltzemar's last question bothered him the most. He'd asked how Drexol was killing the other sorcerers and Frax said Drexol was feeding them to his dragons. But, before doing so he was using an amulet of some kind that enabled him to gain their powers, which was making him more powerful. Drexol had already caused more havoc, death and destruction as it was, so one could only imagine how much more he would do if he was becoming more powerful.

That had been very unpleasant news for Beltzemar to hear. It was definitely not good.

The future of the world was in trouble unless someone did something. That someone would have to be him. What it would be exactly he wasn't sure of himself, for he would have to spend time in deep thought about that. Though it was definitely a problem he would have to find a solution quickly. Time was not a luxury.

Drexol, with a slight smile, sat behind the head of his largest dragon, Valkor, as he looked down at the people before him. There were scores of them, just under three hundred people total.

Well, well. Drexol said. What do we have here? A large group of rebellious, but good hearts, I presume. May I assume that?

Who are you to come into our village and do as you please and bring harm to those of us who have not provoked anyone? a man said, with one arm around his wife, the other around his young daughter.

Ah, what do we have here? Drexol said with some amusement, looking at the man who had just spoke. A good man of courage I sense. Am I correct? Please, speak dear fellow and tell us what is on your mind.

The man had not expected such an easy going reply from the man atop the dragon, and he didn't say anything.

Come now, oh, courageous spokesperson. Drexol said. Please be so kind as to share what is on your mind with me and my wonderful friends.

The man hesitated, but finally spoke. We are a peaceful village and do not deserve such treatment. We have done nothing to provoke any such actions from yourself or anyone else. Why are you doing this to us?

Quite right. Drexol said, laughing heartily as he looked around at the many who accompanied him. Listen one, and listen all. These fine people have done nothing to provoke these violent acts that we have committed against them on this day. We shall cease and move on from this place.

Drexol tapped the side of Valkor's head, and the massive dragon lowered its head. Drexol hopped down onto the ground.

My dear spokesman, sir. Drexol said, approaching the man. Would that make you and your fellow villagers happy?

Yes, the man said. Very much. We only want to live in peace.

Very well. Drexol said. We shall leave this wonderful place of yours.

Father, the man's daughter said, tugging on his arm, we will be able to live in peace again. She smiled happily.

Yes, he replied. We will.

Live in peace, no, my dear. Drexol said. Rest in peace, maybe.

What does he mean, father? the girl asked.

We shall have no peace, he told his daughter.

To be more precise, Drexol said, you shall have no life. He turned around and shouted. Bring forth havoc and destruction upon this place, my people. Do you what pleases thee. And, do not forget... Drexol turned around and looked at the man, their eyes meeting, both unwavering. He pointed at the man, his wife, and daughter. Kill them.

As soon as Drexol finished announcing his command cheers erupted from his followers and the villagers began screaming. The man, one arm around his wife, the other around his daughter, stood his ground firmly.

Father, his daughter said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The girl spoke upon seeing the massive dragon the man had been on raise its head and look at them. It inhaled deeply, which indicated what was to follow.

Stand proud, my family, he said. For we will die having righteous hearts.

No sooner had the man finished speaking the dragon moved forward quickly, a searing hot stream of fire spewing forth from its man, his wife and daughter were killed almost instantly. Their flesh had melted to each other's for a fraction of a second as their bodies were knocked backward onto the ground, then the intense flames turned their bodies into charred skeletons.

Though only a very few of the other villagers succumbed to death in the same way, they would have preferred being burned alive in a matter of a few seconds. Many of the women and young girls were raped, as their male relatives were forced to watch as they were slowly tortured. Some were hanged, others beheaded or eaten alive by one of the dragons. By the end of the night almost all of the villagers were dead. A select few women and young girls were kept by some of the men that faithfully followed Drexol. Death would have been a better fate for those women and young girls. A handful of male villagers were kept and would be used as unwilling slaves for one task or another, or for whatever amusement was deemed necessary at that moment in time by the person in control of them.

Nothing short of death and massive destruction came upon that village, then left thereafter.

It was but another day that brought forth pleasure to Drexol. If only to occupy his time until the next sorcerer was found.

There weren't very many left, as he'd killed most of them already. But, the only one that was on his mind was his long time enemy. Beltzemar.

Chapter 2

The young woman had managed to escape the death and destruction that had come with the evil sorcerer, Drexol, and ravaged the village where she had lived. She was the only one to escape of her own free will. Her name was Chiara, and she was a very, very fortunate young woman, as well as very beautiful. A yet to be born life stirred within her, as she was pregnant for the first time. The father of the child growing inside her had been killed along with most of the people in her village.

She had made it undetected to one of the small one-man foxholes that was about thirty paces into the forest that was next to the village. She had watched in horror as Matthias, the father of her unborn child, was violently ripped apart and eaten by two dragons. It took every bit of willpower within herself not to scream and give away her location, but she managed to remain silent. She did, however, weep quietly over his death. She had loved him very much, and the two of them were to be married. Neither could wait any longer to consummate their love for each other and had made love for the first time two months before. The marriage had been delayed because either members of her family or his were unable to be there. All of the relatives of those getting married being present was something that was taken very seriously. It had been set for them to be married sometime during the following week, but that would be a wedding ceremony that would, sadly, never take place.

She stayed in the foxhole for two days before doing more than just lifting the cover up slightly and peering out, seeing if anyone was nearby. The early evening hours of the first day that Drexol and his evil and ghastly followers had begun to wreak havoc her hiding place had almost been discovered, twice. The first time was when a troll had chased and captured one of the girls younger than herself who had tried to escape. The second was when a dragon had wondered into the area. It had been sniffing around, as if it had detected or knew that someone was very near to its location. The dragon had come within feet of the foxhole, and Chiara had never felt such fear in her life, but then its attention had been distracted by someone else. One of the men in her village had broken free from his captors and was running through the forest when the dragon saw him and caught him quickly. The man's life ended quickly thereafter, and he would not have to worry about being a slave or humiliated for their amusement. Though his death was painful, it did not last very long as the digestive acids in a dragon's stomach work quickly.

Chiara came up out of the hole. The first thing on her mind was finding food, as she hadn't eaten anything since she'd went into the foxhole. Her stomach was growling and she was feeling somewhat dizzy from lack of nutrition. The other thing was to leave the area and go to someone who would help her, if for no other reason than to simply provide comfort. That was how she felt at that very moment, and she just wanted someone to hold on to and a shoulder she could cry on.

As she walked through what remained of the village she was sickened. Fires still burned where homes had once been. Smoke came from others where the fired had all but completely burned out, and others were nothing more than twigs and black ash. She looked around and could see the charred remains of people she had known, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. They were good people that she had knew and loved, and they deserved to have a proper burial. That was out of the question though. There was nothing she could do for them, and leaving the area was the most important thing for her to do at that moment.

She looked around again at the devastation before her, and realized immediately where she had to go and who she needed to see. She had a distant relative that could help her. She wasn't quite sure how the man was related to her, but she knew that if anyone could help her he could.

He was an old man that had come to the village only five or six times in the past. He had stayed for the span of a fortnight on each occasion. He lived far away from there, though, and there was no possible way that she could reach him in less than two weeks on horse. She was in such despair at that moment and was about to lose all hope when she remembered something. He had given her an odd looking charm on a necklace. It was a small, round, blueish crystal of some kind, held in place by what appeared to be a silver claw. He told her that if she ever needed him to hold the charm in her hand next to her heart and whisper his name and he would hear her. She had thought he was crazy, but she had absolutely nothing to lose. She had no horse, no food, nobody to talk to who could help her. Nothing.

She had been told that people were fearful of the old man, because he had magical powers of some kind, but she really hadn't paid much attention to what they had said. She knew that there were such people, she just had serious reservations regarding people with those kinds of abilities being related to her. Her being a part of such a bloodline.

She looked at the charm, then raised her hands and took hold of the charm in them and did what she remembered he had said to do. She knew that he was the only one who could help her now.

Maybe, if the stories she had been told were true, he could stop the evil sorcerer Drexol. Such an act would make the world a much safer place to live. Only time would tell.  She closed her eyes and whispered his name.

Beltzemar.

Nothing happened at first, and she thought what the old man had told her was just a bunch of nonsense some crazy old man would say.

A moment later something happened. She could not immediately tell what it was, but something was happening, something strange that shouldn't have been happening. The things around her were starting to look different, and when she looked at the ground it was also changing. She was beginning to see different shapes of things that were not there before, and were very close to her compared to everything that she saw before her in the once lively, but now dead and devastated, village.

What's happening? Chiara said, scared, with obvious confusion. She didn't know what was happening, but she was about to find out.

Beltzemar had been in deep thought, meditating, when he heard his voice being spoken. The voice had not come from anyone near him, but from someone who was far away. He immediately recognized the voice, as there was only one person it could have been. The young girl. Chiara. He knew that because of the charm he had given her. He had only given two of those to people. She was one, the other was dead. Through process of elimination it could only be her. Why? he wondered.

He felt something and turned around. A moment later he could see what he had felt materialize before him. It was Chiara.

She was rather startled, and very obviously confused at what had just happened to her.

Kwadjol was sitting on the table in almost the exact same place he'd been days before, watching Beltzemar meditate and pace back and forth. He always found that amusing, because people were such busy creatures, whereas cats were just content to lay around and sleep. Humans needed to learn how to unwind and relax more, he often thought to himself. Kwadjol had watched Chiara appear out of nowhere and hissed.

My dear girl. Beltzemar said. What a time for you to use the amulet that I bestowed upon you.

I had to, she said, reaching a hand out to the table to steady herself. I had no one else to go to. A great travesty has happened, and I truly believe that you are the only one who can help. Tears rolled down her face. Such horrible things happened. So many dead. It...he...has to be stopped!

Well now, great wizard, Kwadjol said, I see you are now letting people just transport themselves into our home.

Chiara turned to where the voice had come from. I've interrupted. I apologize.

I would hope so. Kwadjol said. Just as I was watching that old man think himself into an early grave. You've disrupted my only amusement.

This...it...it speaks! Chiara said, baffled, and fainted.

Beltzemar moved one of his hands quickly and mumbled something. Chiara was held up by an invisible force, preventing her from hitting the hard wooden floor.

Unfortunately, yes. He can.

Very funny, old magic man. Kwadjol said. You know, old friend, it may have been wiser to have them appear outside on the other side of the door. At least she could have knocked.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts. Beltzemar said. I'll remember that for future reference.

I do hope so. Kwadjol said. People just appearing out of thin air could give someone a scare that would cause them to meet with death itself.

Now that I think about it, maybe having visitors appear out of nowhere might be a good idea.

Kwadjol stared at Beltzemar for a moment, then said, I see that pacing back and forth has given you a rather unappealing sense of humor.

That is your opinion.

That's the first truthful thing I've heard you say today. Kwadjol said, and walked up to the edge of the table and looked down at Chiara.

It just occurred to me that it might be of benefit if Frax's two young dragons could appear like that in a dire time of need.

That's insane, old man. Kwadjol said. How could you possibly think about letting some vagrant, overgrown lizards into this home? Not to mention the fact that they just stink. Did you forget about that as well? Or have you lost your sense of smell? Do tell. Please.

Oh, be quiet furball. Beltzemar said, with apparent frustration. I must remember to tell Artimus once more why giving animals the ability to speak is not always a good thing. Your mouth runs more than the five great waterfalls two days journey from here.

Hmph! Kwadjol mumbled. I see that we're a bit testy today, he said and looked at Beltzemar, then back at Chiara. So, why did she just show up out of thin air?

I haven't the foggiest idea. Beltzemar said. But, whatever the reason is it had to be of great importance, as she used the amulet that I gave to her some years ago when I went to her village.

Yes, I'm sure it must be. Kwadjol said, and looked at Beltzemar. Do you plan on keeping her suspended in that position all day, or would it be best to lay her down somewhere?

Quite right.

Beltzemar waved his hand and some blankets and a pillow floated through the air from another room. They meticulously, as if each item had a mind of its own, arranged themselves neatly on the floor under her. Beltzemar lowered her gently onto the blankets and pillow. She moaned slightly, but did not wake up. She was dirty and exhausted, so it was no wonder that she fainted. Though she may have fainted because Kwadjol startled her, she likely would have done so anyway.

Well, Beltzemar said, stroking the hair of his goatee, it appears this young woman has been through some kind of ordeal.

It seems so. Kwadjol agreed.

We shall find out in due time. Beltzemar said. I'm sure she will wake before the day is over with.

As those words were spoken the nightmares began in Chiara's dreams, as sleep overcame her exhausted body. She relived what she had seen happen to the people of her village, and the village itself. She desperately wanted to wake up, but her body was far too tired to do so. Until her body was rested she would have to endure seeing those images over and over again in her dreams. When she awoke she would talk to Beltzemar. He could help. She hoped he could. Lives would depend on it.

Artimus was out collecting various herbs and other things Beltzemar had asked him to get. He was some distance from Beltzemar's home, because that task would often require him to travel to retrieve the items that Beltzemar needed. Some of the items were rather unusual, which required him to get down on his hands and knees and venture into places he wouldn't normally go, but he had a charm of protection Beltzemar had given him to protect him on such errands. Beltzemar used to get the items himself, but Artimus was willing to do anything as his apprentice, so why not let him attend to those tasks as well.

Artimus had just finished placing the two sharp talons into his leather pouch that he'd clipped off a lizard canine. They were unusual creatures. If they were hungry they wanted to eat you. If they weren't hungry they wanted to play with you. Grogs, their more common name, made terrible pets, and they tasted horrible. Well, he would have to say they were an acquired taste, because trolls found them to be rather tasty. That wasn't saying much, though, because he'd seen a troll eat dirt before. If someone eats dirt they'll eat just about anything.

Finished with that task, and trying not to think about grogs, he began the long walk back to Beltzemar's. He had gotten almost everything that he was to get. What items he hadn't he would get, as those items were easily found and he would find them on the way back. As he walked he noticed a shadow quickly pass over him. He looked up and didn't see anything. A moment later the shadow went over him again. This time he saw what the source of the shadow was. It was a vykro. A vykro was a bird. A very large bird to be precise, and that was an understatement. Vykros were about five feet tall, at least, and had a wingspan of twenty feet or more. They were related to an eagle, in a way. Aside from their size there were two distinct differences between them. The first one being that a vykro had dozens of razor-sharp teeth inside its beak. The second, and rather unusual difference, was that a vykro could change its color at will and blend in with its surroundings the same way a chameleon could. Some were vicious and have been known to swoop down out of the sky and snatch up people for food. Aside from that, they were magnificent creatures to look at. Generally they were seen in their natural color, which was blue.

The large bird circled overhead for about a minute before flying down and landing twenty or so feet away from him. Its wings were still spread out, making it look larger than it was. It looked at Artimus, its eyes never wavering from him.

Artimus quickly grabbed hold of the charm of protection and held it firmly in his hand. He quickly said the few words that Beltzemar had told him to say in the event harm may come upon him. No sooner had he finished the vykro flapped its wings and moved quickly toward him. Artimus did not move, as he knew it could not touch him. When it came within a couple of feet of him it hit an invisible wall. It was stunned and jumped back, flapping its wings violently as it turned and screeched loudly. Just as quickly as its violent charade began it ceased. It tucked its wings in and stood there staring at him, not moving.

Artimus was not sure what to do. He thought the large bird would get bored and go away, but it didn't. Its eyes never wavered, staring at him with adamant, yet discomforting, purpose. He had never seen one of those birds act in such a way.

It was strange, and also fascinating. For fifteen minutes he stood there as they stared at each other, neither moving. Rays of sunlight filtered down through the tops of the tall trees. Even during the middle of the day it was still somewhat dark in the forest, and there were dark shadows everywhere. The forest looked like it was part of another world, and it was in many ways. The majority of its inhabitants did not venture outside of the forest, except on rare occasions.

The vykro shook its body slightly, ruffling up its feathers and leaned its head forward and screeched at him. That had startled him and he looked away from it. When he did he saw something that caught his attention in the glare of sunlight cast on the vykro's side. It had been wounded and was bleeding.

After a moment he looked at its eyes.

And what happened to you, my large feathered friend? Artimus said. It screeched again. Maybe friend was the wrong choice of word.

Artimus knew the large bird was injured, and he wanted to help it, but vykros weren't very friendly. It was wise not to let one grasp your arm or leg, because the strength of its grip would crush those bones and go through that limb, ripping flesh. He'd seen the aftermath of that before, and it wasn't pretty. The person who'd suffered that was scarred for life. Artimus didn't want to suffer a similar injury, and as long as he had the charm and used it he wouldn't, but he also felt that it wasn't right to leave the vykro in its wounded condition.

Against his better judgment, Artimus whispered the words that removed the invisible barrier of protection around him. He stepped to the side and carefully, and slowly, walked around the large bird. As he did so it moved its body, keeping a watchful eye on him. Though it wasn't moving toward him or showing any hostile action he kept the distance between them both the same as he slowly circled it.

He came back to where he'd been when the vykro had landed. He stopped.

He was able to see the wound