Son of the Dragon: Empyraeum Novellas, #5

By Alan J. Fisher

Alexander disappeared almost three thousand years ago, a hundred years after the death of his deepest friend, Yeshua the Kristoman, we have been looking for him ever since."

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Where DID Alexander go during his three èyion absence? Did he go off into space as she hinted? How is that even possible? Did she actually already know where he was as Neshaa suspected?

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Join Alexander on the hardest journey of them all, one where the body may well go nowhere but the mind...well who truly knows where the mind can go? Did Alexander leave Gaia at all and how did he end up in Santo Domingo, a few hundred years too early?

 

When the greatest threat of all - that for which he is certain the Kalshodar were made - emerges, he realises the Rule of Three applies always; it never rains but it pours! He must remove one threat to Gaia in order to defend against another. He must face his own inner darkness and past, face them and accept them.

 

He must face a monster and defeat it without himself becoming one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan J. Fisher
• Release date: May 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201988432

Alan J. Fisher

Born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, Alan has since lived in various parts of the world before settling in Spain with his family.  Influenced in early life by the works of J.R.R. Tolkien and the traditions of High Fantasy, Alan has studied history and mythology from around the world and has always been interested in how the same stories have been told and re-told from one side of the globe to the other. He is alway deeply interested in languages and their influence on society.  Work on what would become the Empyraeum Cycle was begun when Alan was 13 years ago, the first draft being completed on an old mechanical typewriter and later re-written on a school computer

Book preview

Also by the same author;

The Empyraeum Collections - Shorts and verse

α -The Wondering Wanderer

β - The Wakeful Dreamer

γ - Turn Out to Inward

δ - Whispers Behind the Eyes

The Empyraeum Novellas

α - Skander Draco

β - The Victory of Wolves

γ - Neshaa

δ – The Charmer of Snakes

ε - Son of the Dragon

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Poetry

F*** You Poe, an Anthology

The Chronicles of Enoch

Chronicles of Enoch: Preludes

Chronicles of Enoch: Pentad (Coming Winter 2022)

I - Darkness Within

II - Sons of Chaos

III - Gods of Deceit

IV - Midnight Moonlight

V - Son of Light

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Chronicles of Enoch: Albuquerque Tales (Coming Soon)

None of these would be possible were I not so blessed with such wonderful families; in the Dominican Republic and back in my ‘homes’; Ireland, Belfast, England & Gibraltar. Sham is a strange man and you will soon see how much stranger he is. The real Sham wasn’t that strange, just a really good friend...

To my beautiful daughters who made daddy want to try.

To my lovely wife who is always the reason why.

To my fans for making me want to torture your minds just a little bit more...

To my beautiful daughters who made daddy want to try.

To my lovely wife who is always the reason why.

To my fans for making me want to torture your minds just a little bit more..

/Users/alan/Downloads/AJF_Logo_Close (1).pngAJF_Logo_Close (1)

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"You chartòn chàgachipà nanèta of an eite-pen xenènka yàkka choi!" Neshaa rarely swore but, when he did, he did it colourfully and, to be honest, a little strangely. His koinè was sketchy at best

and he was quite inventive with his glòsta. He was also very angry; his face flushed a rather bright shade of red rather close, in fact, to the colour of his hair. "What the eite chartòn chàga-peìcas gamin pindar yàkka was all of that about, you Macedonian vàl lòuf?"

To be both honest and fair, Neshaa was not the only one thinking these things. Perhaps not in quite the same way as he had expressed it, granted, but they were thinking it.

Alexander had led them through The Crown to a large room with a great rectangular table surrounded by deep chairs, chairs built to Kalshodar proportions. Even Korae fitted comfortably into his. The ten Kalshodar and the ten Dracograth all took seats along one side each. Alexander at one end, Sham at the other. The humans who had come with Lupernikes sort of milled around, unsure what to do. Sham was still giving the one they called Seeker strange looks. Lupernikes was doing the same with Sham. Kalliades realised that poor Marcos had not heard about the Indian's continued existence like he and Neshaa had. He looked quite shell-shocked actually. Once Neshaa finished his tirade, which continued on for about five minutes before he started to repeat himself, the laughter also died down. Alexander sat there grinning like a child but he was entitled to that, what he'd just done was unbelievable!

"I want to know what the gamin yak, to quote my good friend Neshaa, Lupernikes cut in. This sneaky snake of an Indikēn is doing here? Were you not supposed to have died around two

thousand years ago? I know you guys believe in reincarnation but I doubt it would be so accurate"

I hear that was the general consensus, right. Sham looked deeply embarrassed. He was studying the surface of the table and his own hands. I have a lot of explaining to do, I know. He added

quietly.

Kalliades, Neshaa and Alexander had already had this conversation of course, Sham had done his best to explain but, with everything else that had happened in that strange world they had

somehow ended up in, there had not been enough time for a fuller explanation. Lupernikes had been under the impression Sham had been dead up until an hour ago. He was understandably upset

to see that the Indikēn had not been quite honest with them about that and a lot of other things.

Alexander began to thump the wooden surface of the table with the heel of his hand to quieten the conversations springing up.

We both have a lot of explaining to do. He called out. "Sham does and I will leave that to him but I do as well. I have a lot to explain and a lot, also, to tell you all. We are going back to Earth but

there are things we must do first."

Everyone looked straight at him, their attention rapt. No-one spoke, they all wanted to know. Every single person sat at this table had been waiting close to three thousand years for this day and, now

that it had come, they were actually unsure of what to do, it did not feel real somehow....living every second of every day hoping for just one single thing yet being disappointed each time the sun set

and rose again was hard. The twenty soldiers gathered here had lived nearly one hundred thousand such disappointing days. Now the day

had come it was surreal, unreal...hard to accept. There were so many questions. Too many questions.

For one, you and Sham will have to talk later, Marcos, Alexander said. We have much more important things to discuss now. He stood up, even though the seated Dragons were still taller than

him even then.

He was not sure how he had done it. He’d flickered, that was as good a term as any. He had been leaving the chamber where she had her hoard and her bed then - flicker - and he was back in what

would soon be called the History Chamber. It would also give Alexander some serious nightmares after what he had seen happen to Marcos in there (it had taken them a great deal of time to clean the

floor and the dwarves had been very upset about it). He had not walked; he had stepped and then appeared right in the middle of the chamber. He had, he realised, been thinking about the carvings

relating to her story following their conversation. He had thought about a particular carving, how well it resembled her, when suddenly he was there, standing right in front of it. He sat down for a

moment on one of the plinths to consider the implications of this. He had smiled and thought hard of pool fed by five streams, focussing on a desire to be there. Flicker. He was suddenly underwater

and had no time to close his mouth before his lungs started to fill up. He tried to remain calm and looked for the walls. No-one later using it realised how deep this pool actually was. Alexander had

not either until now. It disappeared into distant blackness below him, disorienting him further. He had shut his mouth at least but needed the surface right now. He found the edge and clawed his way out of

the pool, gasping and spitting water. He remained on all fours on the stone for a moment until he was sure that he had gotten all the water out. Now that was both stupid and interesting! It appeared

that if he could see or at least imagine a place well enough, he could go there, instantly.

So how did I end up here? He thought, looking around at the red sands and the sky the colour of burnt blood. I’ve a feeling we’re not in Alexandria anymore. I’ve a feeling we’re not on Gaia anymore ... He was from a time and a culture where the idea that one could walk on, let alone live on other planets was - without intended pun - completely alien. He would look at the  stars and see the homes of heroes and gods. Not balls of plasma burning in emptiness or other worlds just like his own. Thinkers of his time had studied the heavens and managed to identify planets and  Sèlene but they had no idea that they were like this one. They were other stars, they were bodies. He was sure that he was on a different world but it did not occur to him that he was on another planet, around thirty-thousand  light years away from home. He did not even know what the concept of a light-year was.

He was alone. Lightning crazed the sky and he had a burning sensation deep inside of his throat. He could breathe just fine, he noted, but the air felt...cooked...it was dry and had the

flintiness of desert to it. There was nothing to see but red sand for Stàthmìa in any direction as best as he could tell  Off far into the distance he could see a shadow on the horizon which looked like it could be mountains. He considered trying to imagine Alexandria, his room in the palace or somewhere else, to see if he could return home but he was here - wherever here was - for a reason, he was certain.

Since he had became a true immortal, since the dragon had remade him, he had worried less about the favour of the gods but he had not ceased to believe in them. The gods dealt with mortals and immortals he was sure. They had placed him here - Tartarus?- for a reason. One direction seeming as good as another, he set off towards what he felt were mountains. At least he could find shelter there perhaps. He

knew nothing about this place but shelter seemed good. He had nothing but his armour and weapons. Food would soon become a priority. He cleared his throat against the dusty air, water sooner

than that.

He saw nothing, no plants or other forms of life as he moved through the sands, his the only footprints he could see. The heavy clouds made it impossible to judge direction. There was no sun, no

stars to be seen; just the great bolts of lightning which threaded their way across the sky. He looked behind and saw nothing of note except for his own footprints. Curiously he felt no wind; nothing

stirred that trace of his passage. He could do no more than continue onward. As he walked and time passed, he felt a fatigue. He had no idea how long he had trudged through this strange sand but it

felt like several hours. The distant shadow of what he was sure were mountains was getting no closer. His throat was feeling scratchy, his belly empty.

This was like the trek across another desert, after the army left Indikē so long ago. He had sent Nearchus ahead with the fleet and set off with the army to meet him after they had cleared out the lands between the Hydaspes and the Indus. They found nothing but salt sand, empty coastline and death. No food, no water, hardly any people except for the strange fish-eaters. He lost count of the dead men and animals before too long. As he watched the army plough on, Sham trudging stoically by his side, he felt true exhaustion then and was sure his friend felt it too. Sham was struggling and he was from lands which were hot like these. It has been the latest mistake in a long chain of such errors he had made. Since he had left Babylon, he felt he had made nothing but mistake after mistake. Hephaeston had been with him still then, his faithful friend, his love. His truest friend from childhood. He was gone now, a thousand years burnt.

He had no choice now, he knew, tired as he was, he could not go back now. Back to where and what? There' was nothing where had come from. Forward then, he bowed his head against the

sourceless heat and still, dry air and pressed  on.

You know you will probably die here, my friend? Came a familiar voice from his side. You will die alone in some gods-forsaken unknown world or land. No-one will even know that you are dead!

Hephaeston? Alexander's dry throat cracked as he tried to speak.

Of course it is me, my love, His voice soft. I thought you should not die alone.

I am dying?  ,

"As much as she made you stronger, you can still die. It just takes a lot longer."

Shouldn't you be encouraging me or cheering me up, Hephaeston? Alexander managed. You're supposed to love me, I thought.

Why should I? You let me die.

I did not -

You left me to die in pain and suffering when that strange Indikēn of yours could've saved me. You could have halted my suffering in Ecbatana. He said. Alexander dared not turn his head to try and look at him. He was afraid at what he would see.

I could have been immortal like you are now and we would have been together forever, Alexander.

I - he felt the tears welling up in his eyes, his chest growing tight.

You let me die Alexander, you could have saved me. His voice was just by Alexander's ear, it never moved. It was always off to the side and just behind. He thought he could make out a shadow.

So why should I save you?

You are not real, you cannot be, Alexander fought back. I saw you die and set the coins on your eyes myself.

Of course I am dead, you stupid man! You soon will be too, then we can talk some more. I have missed you, Alexander.

This wasn't sounding like Hephaeston all of a sudden. Maybe his friend had changed in his journey across the Styx but Alexander doubted it.

"How about we