Becoming the Dragon of Light: The Spinners of Time, #3

By AMY WOLF

Prepare to be spellbound by Becoming the Dragon of Light, a captivating epic fantasy that entwines love, loss, and fate in the aftermath of a devastating war. Abarōz and her beloved Shāhpuhr, both scarred by the conflict, must now face an insidious new enemy threatening all of Gehān. But as they embark on perilous rescues and confront malevolent specters, a glimmer of hope emerges—marriage.

Amidst the chaos, Abarōz's heart wrestles with grief. Can she rise above her personal anguish and embrace the mantle of the Dragon of Light, a role that could bring salvation to all? With unwavering spirit, Abarōz and Shāhpuhr must forge ahead, drawing strength from their love and the unyielding determination to protect their world.

Will they succeed?

Find out in this third and final volume of the Spinners of Time series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lone Wolf Press Ltd.
• Release date: Feb 21, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224094738

AMY WOLF

Amy Wolf has just released the first book of in her Greek fantasy MYTHOS world. She is an Amazon Kindle Scout winner for her novel THE MISSES BRONTES' ESTABLISHMENT. Her fantasy series, THE CAVERNIS TRILOGY, is out from Red Empress Press. Amy has published 38 short stories in the SF/Fantasy press, including REALMS OF FANTASY (2) and INTERZONE (U.K.). She is a graduate of the Clarion West Writer's program and has an honors English degree from The University of London. She started her career working for the major Hollywood studios, including 20th Century Fox and Warner Bros., and was a Script Reader for MGM & Joe Roth. One of three natives out of 10 million, Amy was forced from L.A. and now lives in Honolulu. She has one adult daughter currently terrorizing L.A., and a small, barky dog.

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

BECOMING THE DRAGON OF LIGHT

Book 3 of The Spinners of Time

First edition July 25, 2003

Copyright © 2023 Amy Wolf

Written by Amy Wolf

Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at:

https://amy-wolf.com

https://amywolfie.gumroad.com

https://twitter.com/@AmyWolf_Author

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100088956518783

The universe is transformation: life is opinion.

--Marcus Aurelius

Acknowledgments

Tim Whittome and Jenny T., Proofreaders

Cover Illustration: Paramita Creative

Fantasy Map: Inkarnate– Amy Wolf

Greg Wenderski – The Sword Casting Guy

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to the memory of my mom, Sylvia Faith Wolf (1938–2020), our beloved Did

Even now, I know she is kibbitzing!

NAMES / PLACES

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NAMES

Abarōz – 17-year-old Dardan girl who rebels

Shāhpuhr – boy of the forest

Rastag – Abarōz’s father

Adrina – Abarōz’s mother

S̆āh Al-razi – former ruler of Dardan

Adurnarseh – the new S̆āh

Bükrek – a dragon of creation

Sangal – dragon of chaos

Şahmeran – snake queen

Erbüke – snake king

Kavad – Dardan escapee

Husrav – evil vizier

Manuchehr – a Peril

Berislav – werewolf leader

Catanes – Shāhpuhr’s dragon

Pabag - Shāhpuhr’s dragon

Mihrab – Abarōz’s dragon

Iatopa – Abarōz’s dragon

Parviz – Southern dragon

Az – Abarōz’s dragon

Walagash – Sangal’s #2 dragon

Narses – Southern dragon leader

Cyaxares – founder of Southern dragon dynasty

Baba Yaga – a witch

Su Ana – a water spirit

Bardi – a Šahrian

Morwārīd – a female Dardan Senator

Pērōz – Rastag’s second in command

Tengri – god of creation

Ülgen – a god, Tengri’s son

Erlik – god of the Underworld

The new god – Jesus

PLACES

Dardan – new aboveground city

Šahr – adjoining city to Dardan

Razūr – forest

Rōd – river in Razūr

Gehān – world / name of country

Paristan – land of the Perils

Belarod – the near north

The North – land of bad dragons

The South – land of good dragons

Abaxtar – far northern land

Xwarāsān – northern home of the Mhackay

Wiyābān – desert behind Dardan’s mountain

CREATURES

Erbörü – werewolves

Mhackay – vampires

Öreks – Turkish zombies

Yaryond – centaurs

Gurg Kamāl – wolf-headed dragons

Maran – Şahmeran’s snakes

Yelbegen – king of the dragons

Xūg – wolverine

Çor – a nasty, invisible spirit

OTHER

Mihr – the sun

Māh – the moon

axtar – star

ebren – a dragon

Bērūn – the outside

Azēr – underground

zarr – gold mine

zarran – miner

Hamwar – a storey in a cave

dahigān – farmer

Axwaš – The Discarded

Aswār of Ebrens – a dragonrider

Ōšmurdan – a Tallyman

dēnārs – money

zand – tribe

Zeh̬n̥ Xɑn – a mind reader

dahigān – farmer

father – Pid

mother – Mād

Hrōmāyīg – the Greeks

Nārig – lady of the house

Frāmadār – a general

Ebren Hambūdan - united dragons

PRONOUNCIATION GUIDE

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PRONOUNCIATION GUDE

Abarōz (Ab-or-ahs)

Shāhpuhr (Shāh-pur)

Bükrek (Book-wreck)

Şahmeran – (S̆āh-mer-on)

Manuchehr (Man-u-cher)

Adurnarseh (A-durn-ar-say)

Gehān (Gay-han)

Šahr (Sar)

Bērūn (Bay-ruin)

Razūr (Rah-zer)

Erbüke (Er-boo-kay)

Erbörü – (Er-bore-ooh)

Mhackay – (M’hack-ā)

MAP

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Contents

1.After the Second War

2.Two Speeches

3.ThThe Election

4.Transformation

5.Find Her!

6.The New Şahmeran

7.A Homecoming

8.The Great Feast

9.Hail Caesar

10.Ebren Hambudan

11.United They Stand

12.An Old Friend Reclaimed

13.Ülgen Sees All

14.Wiyābān

15.Down South

16.What Would Bükrek Do?

17.An Entertainment

18.Caring for the Light

19.Training the Four Hundred

20.True Aswār

21.A Strange Absence

22.Battle of the Aswār

23.Without a Leader

24.The Spirit of the Forest

25. The Spirit of the Water

26.A New Strategy

27.Stealth

28.Sister City

29.Kavad

30.A Gift of Wine

31.The Örek

32.Awakening

33.In the Lair

34.The Storm

35.Waiting

36.The Fullness of Māh

37.Not So Cunning

38.ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chapter 1

After the Second War

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L ook, Abarōz pointed, wheeling Az over tall rock walls. Our city still stands!

Thank Tengri! cried Shāhpuhr, his own black dragon Catanes flanking Az’s white wings. From their place in the sky, Dardan looked almost whole, save for an overturned boulder or the angry char of flame.

The two riders descended, dismounting outside the main gate, where a stone circle of wolves kept a watchful eye. As Abarōz stepped past them, she realized that Dardan, near pristine from above, was really stark and broken when viewed from the ground.

The early light of Mihr fell on dark, seeping pools which spread over the streets. Blood. Rooves of rock now sagged under the weight of fallen creatures. Abarōz looked away from the men, women, and children; forever stilled; bodies strewn over stone.

Abarōz sighed, turning to Shāhpuhr.

I must look to the wounded, she said, kneeling by an Aswār whose right leg spurted blood. Do not worry, she told the man, closing her eyes and raising a hand. His groans lessened, wounds healed, thanks to her power as Şahmeran. As Abarōz moved from block to block, she saw to twisted bodies, healing them all. Of course, she was glad to do it, though the last battle, its residual smoke still hanging, had drained her of much of her strength.

Once she’d finished providing relief, she walked to the main courtyard where Shāhpuhr, helped by five men, was wrapping light cloth around the fallen.

We must bury them quickly, he said. Before Mihr does her damage.

Abaroz nodded, taking in the mass of shrouds.

Where? she asked.

I thought perhaps in your garden.

She nodded.

Very well.

She headed a small procession, leading it out the gate and into palms which promised eternal shade.

Her mother was here, somewhere.

While the men did their best to dig a wide hole in the soil, she drew Shāhpuhr aside.

Should I say a few words, she asked, since I was the one who trapped Sangal?

Absolutely. It will comfort the families.

Abarōz nodded as a line of silent relatives made their way over the pit. With each body handed down, her eyes dampened. Struggling to find the words, she tried to keep her voice steady.

Fellow citizens, she said, these brave souls before us have sacrificed all for our zand. We must realize their vision—and ours—to restore a free Dardan: one not tyrannized by the S̆āh.

She felt the soft touch of Shāhpuhr stroking her hand. Still, it wasn’t enough for her to go on and she bowed to the mourners before leaving this fragrant oasis: one she had personally created. She heard the crunch of Shāhpuhr’s boot as he sought to catch up.

Another sad day, she sighed. Will we ever stop having them?

Tomorrow, he said. The S̆āh is deposed and Sangal is back in his lake.

The same could be said for the first war. What’s different now?

Shāhpuhr sighed.

Perhaps . . . after two defeats, our foes will not try again.

Abarōz felt a gloomy foreboding.

Unlikely.

Let us rouse ourselves, said Shāhpuhr. It might make you feel better. First, we must capture the S̆āh—wherever he’s gone.

I hope the Underworld! Abarōz spat. While I was tending the wounded, I heard a curious rumor: He’s locked himself in his palace and refuses to come out.

Adurnarseh, said Shāhpuhr, has never possessed much courage.

Abarōz snorted.

Good to know nothing’s changed.

We must force him out if need be. Put him somewhere he can’t cause trouble.

Now I’m sorry, Abarōz said, I destroyed his father’s old dungeon.

Shāhpuhr chuckled.

No need for regret, he told her. I hear there’s a nice one right below the palace.

Let’s hope it has marble and silks. Abarōz wiped her brow, walking beneath the stone wolves. It’s important, she said, we don’t harm the S̆āh. Put a stop to torture and murder.

Agreed. Though we might treat him to some lovely shackles.

We must start off cleanly, Abarōz said. As we set out to do.

You mean with a Senate?

We must hold elections—as soon as tomorrow. Before the next would-be tyrant tries to seize the city. Shāhpuhr nodded. For now, let’s go to my house—see if it still stands. Tengri willing, my father will be there to greet us.

Chapter 2

Two Speeches

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Abarōz’s spirits were high as they clanked in their gold armor toward a small stone house. Compared to the S̆āh’s palace, it was hardly ornate, but still, it was hers—along with her father’s.

She slammed open the door, eyes adjusting to light diffused through wide striped shutters.

Father! she yelled, but he was not in their main living space. As she started for his room, he emerged, washed and dressed in a robe spun from flax.

Daughter! he cried, closing the distance between them and grabbing her in a hug. I was so worried, he said. He raised his eyes, meeting Shāhpuhr’s. About you both. Yet here you are, without a scratch!

Abarōz forced a smile, but she wasn’t entirely sure. Though she had escaped the battle with only minor bruises, she wondered if the real damage had settled into her soul. Shaking off her melancholy, she ran for her room.

Be back in a moment! she cried, and entered her own space as if she were a stranger. Did this soft bed, stuffed with feathers and stacked with blankets, really belong to her? After spending most of her life in a cave, she could hardly believe such luxury existed. Groaning out of her armor, she poured water into a basin, dipping in a small cloth to wipe off the stain of war.

Once she’d changed into a robe, she went out to find Shāhpuhr and her father seated around their wood table. They were both gulping down draughts poured into shiny brass goblets.

I see, said Abarōz, raising a brow, I have missed the start of the revelry!

‘You have indeed, Rastag said with a wink. And on this occasion only, I offer you a small portion."

He thrust a third cup toward her, holding a brass jug aloft.

No–no thank you, Abarōz told him, quicker than she meant to. After the rigors of battle and her fiery grapple with Sangal, she feared a single sip might fell her ‘till morning.

Very well, shrugged her father, draining his cup. Shāhpuhr reached to refill it. I suppose, dear daughter, you have thought up a whole plan to secure Dardan’s future.

I have, she whispered, flushing down to her neck.

By Tengri, don’t wait! he cried. Let’s hear every detail!

First, she told the two men, we restore the city to resemble the one I built. Since I can no longer spin time, this will require much work. Then, quicker than an ebren’s flight, we must hold the elections.

As quick as all that? chuckled Rastag. Do you not omit an occasion of far greater importance?

Abarōz narrowed her eyes.

What was he on about? Had he perhaps imbibed one too many cups?

I–I don’t think so, she answered, looking to Shāhpuhr for help. He, however, refused to meet her eye and focused instead on the shutters.

"Will someone please tell me about this secret something?"

Oh, daughter, laughed Rastag, do you forget your own nuptials?

Abarōz took a step back.

No! No, of course not!

And when, he asked Shāhpuhr, leaning forward, is the happy event to be?

Shāhpuhr now stared at her face.

If it were up to me, I should say as soon as possible.

Yet you, Abarōz cried, are not the sole party involved!

He looked taken aback.

Of . . . of course not—

What I mean to say is that after all we’ve been through—gods and monsters and war—it might be best to postpone—

NONSENSE! Rastag roared, scraping back his chair as he stood. "After all we’ve been through, don’t we deserve a bit of happiness?"

It would seem so, whispered Abarōz, her mind feeling light and distant. It’s just . . . I don’t see the need for haste. Her eyes implored Shāhpuhr’s. After all, we’ve waited so long—

All the more reason to get married now! Rastag banged a fist on the table. Have a joyous ceremony, a feast lasting three days, and a shaman of Tengri!

In fact, Shāhpuhr told him, my mother has volunteered to perform the shaman’s role.

That’s it then! shouted Rastag. Who closer to the sky god than her?

Abarōz felt cornered, as if enemy ebrens pinned her.

Despite Bükrek’s assurance, she said, I would like to move slower. Sneaking a glance at Shāhpuhr, she saw the hurt on his face. Not for long! she added. It’s just . . . after this latest war, I find myself weary. I feel I could sleep and not awaken until Sangal returns to Gehān.

That is eight hundred years, said Shāhpuhr, his olive skin going pale. My mother will still live, but as far as you and me—

Please do not mistake me! I merely need time to recover. Perhaps I’ll be ready after Māh goes through her full cycle.

That is too long! Shāhpuhr cried, rising to stand by her father. I wish to be married and start building our house in Razūr!

As do I, said Abarōz softly. At least it’s not eight hundred years.

Might as well be! he growled, seizing his goblet to drain it.

Abarōz tried logic.

Shāhpuhr, surely you know that wedlock is harder for women. The dowry must be gathered—

"I require nothing!"

—The wedding feast prepared and the formal robes fitted. Then, there is the matter of guests—

All Dardans are welcome!

Despite her discomfort, Abarōz went on.

And what of the Šahrians? she asked. The ebrens, and the Erbörü? Plus, we cannot forget Manuchehr!

Shāhpuhr unleashed a sigh which might have been heard all over Dardan.

Very well, he grumbled, but I hope your feet are not cold.

Abarōz looked down. She was wearing warm slippers.

I don’t understand.

My mother taught me the phrase: It means you wish to back out.

Abarōz took a breath, feeling it slice across her lungs.

Is that what you think?

Well, in light of your reluctance—

Now, now children, soothed Rastag, clutching the back of his chair. Let’s not start another war. Not when the last has just ended.

I apologize, Father, Abarōz said, heat forming behind her eyes. She began to question her own motives.

Why, she wondered, did she delay her marriage to the man she truly loved? They had pledged themselves to each other, so why was she so hesitant?

Although she thought she knew, she stayed silent.

We will recognize the time when it comes, she said, forcing a thin-lipped smile.

Far be it for me to compel you.

Shāhpuhr nodded stiffly before slamming his way out the door. Her father turned to her slowly, now sober from sobering talk.

Abarōz . . .

I know, act quickly or lose him. Were those not your next words?

You, he answered, putting a hand on her shoulder, are wise for your young age. You’ve also been tested greatly, in war as well as love. Shāhpuhr will come to see it, for he is level-headed.

More so than me, thought Abarōz. She tried to distract herself from Shāhpuhr’s hurt and anger.

Come, she said, there is something we must not delay.

Rastag nodded as he followed her into the street. There, and in every block, she used her command of nature to repair Chaos’ damage, righting a crumbled wall here; restoring a crushed roof there. With little power over ebrens, she had to stand by as teams of workers hauled them away. It would take all their efforts, but she was convinced that soon, Dardan would be as it was.

She came to the main courtyard with its bench strangely intact. There, she saw groups of her zand approaching to form circles around her. In the near distance, she spotted Shāhpuhr, arms crossed and frowning. For the second time that day, she felt she must make a speech, and stood on that stone bench.

Dardans, she declared to the milling mob. They fell silent, faces upturned. You know we must act quickly to end the S̆āh’s cruel reign. That will mean an election—for a new ruling body, a Senate. By the time Mihr rises tomorrow, you will find a hollow stone in this spot. Cast in your own stone etched with the name of your candidate.

Who can we elect? a man shouted.

"Anyone. For the first time in our history, we will choose our own rulers. And, after a time, if they’re not to your taste, vote them out. She thought about rules. Each Senator shall keep their seat for two years. If, she added hastily, their conduct is moral and just."

A murmur went up from the Dardans, and from her perch, Abarōz couldn’t tell if they agreed or not. As they began to disperse, Shāhpuhr followed, no doubt on his way to Razūr.

Shāhpuhr! she called, running toward him.

Strong speech, he said, his eyes lacking their usual light. It is assured you’ll be a Senator.

Please, Abarōz begged, gently taking his arm. She felt his muscles stiffen. "I want you to know I do want to marry you—more than anything