Dragon's of the Veil

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. If you could call the scorched earth between the lone warrior, and the Black Fortress, a Valley. The once rolling hills with lush green grass and rainbows of wildflowers were now nothing more than a barren wasteland of soot and ash.

There was not so much as a blade of grass, no sticks or twigs, nothing of the glorious trees that once stood here. Nothing grew here…nothing thrived. Not since the war that had trapped the dragons and chained them to that traitor, Aude’Myr. They are tortured, demonic-like souls, devoid of any kindness or compassion. They lived now only to kill and destroy whatever, or whoever, their master commands of them.

Ceryk, hunched at the edge of the forest, the Greene some called it, as it was in direct contrast to the destruction that lay before it. Its trees and brush, the very ground covered with leaves and pine, teemed with life and babbling brooks, water as clear as glass flowing through them. Fields of copper and gold abounded with wildlife. It was a mystery to him how nothing ever grew in this black valley, but just one step across, life carried on.

Ceryk took a deep breath as if he could smell the fresh morning air and feel the warm, early morning rays of the sun on his face. Thoughts of his last peaceful days washed through him like a summer breeze. Then it was gone, that one peaceful moment.

Across the scorched earth of the valley before him, he could hear the crashing waves of the Black Sea upon the beachhead. The Black Sea surrounded the Fortress on two sides. Shear Rock cliffs prevent access from behind. A Jagged rock reef and the dragons that slumbered in the caves prevented access from the sea. He had to find a way in!

That twice cursed fortress held the power to destroy his world or make it whole again. Would he ever know peace? He lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the jagged scar just above his left brow, curving down and stopping just below his cheekbone. He frowned. This was his reminder, his answer to that age-old question. Peace, it seemed, might never come again.

He expelled a heavy breath, resolving himself to that knowledge. No use dwelling on the past. It is done and nothing would change it. Time to move on, as Harlon would say. His keen eyes, dark as the raging sea, scanned the valley and the sky for any sign of dragons. Two days with no sight nor sound from those winged beasts, which made Ceryk nervous.

They were here. He could feel them, as if their breath coursed through his veins. Their golden eyes watched; they waited, anxious and... fearful.

Dawn was upon him, the Eastern Sun just now peeking over the top of the fortress, casting its warm glow over the dark valley as if to bring forth new life. Its bright rays bounced off the Veil that surrounded the Thoriayn Forest; a mystery unsolved, its boundaries started where the Greene ended.

The Edge of Thoriayn started at the juncture where the Greene met the Valley and skirted along and around to the left side of the Fortress. An impenetrable veil protected it, like a sentinel watching over its domain.

The Veil held for so many years, Ceryk thought, there wasn’t anyone alive that would remember how it came to be. Nothing that ever went in, if one found a way, ever came out.

There would be no help from that corner, to be sure. His only way, so it seemed, was forward, and yet… it was not. Torches burned along the Fortress’ curtain wall, outlining the soldiers keeping watch for any threat. No one could approach its gates without being challenged or outright killed.

Cerik punched the cold, hard ground in frustration. No way in from any direction. Even if he could make it across this Valley, he’d never be able to scale the wall and gain entry without being seen. He’d never make it across the beach and through the caves without becoming dragon food.

Damn Brax, he swore there was a way. Before he died, claiming he’d been in there and had escaped. Ceryk cursed under his breath. This was as close as they’d ever been. It couldn’t end here. There had to be a way in. Everything depended on it.

Ceryk turned to leave, then froze as movement caught his eye. There, at the edge of the fortress, a cloaked figure crouched low skirting along the edge of the Veil, by blood and bone! He could not believe his eyes.

This was his way in! He continued to watch this hooded figure inched his way along the Veil, in his direction. Ceryk lifted his eyes toward the heavens, thanking the powers that be for this small boon. A plan formed in his mind just as Harlon sidled up next to him and clapped him on the shoulder.

“What’s keeping ya Ceryk?” he hissed, his voice low. “We need to go before we are discovered. If there is a way in, that knowledge died with Brax. Poor bastard.” Harlon shook the memory of Brax’s tortured body from his mind. He wondered how the man had survived long enough to escape from that hell. He’d take a quick death any day.

Ceryk didn’t reply as Cal’yn joined them. His two most trusted warriors, Harlan and Cal’yn had been with him since childhood. There were his chosen bodyguards, his constant companions. They trained together and fought together and were so in tuned to each other he needn’t say anything, just pointed to his quarry.

“What the hell!” Cal’yn gasped, inching forward and squinting at the hooded figure moving carefully along a path between the Veil and the Valley. The tiny figure stumbled and fell but quickly gained his feet, his hood pulled low over his head. He looked to the wall, then the sky, and then forward as he began moving again, slow and meticulous, “That fool is about to get himself dead.”

“From the fortress?” Harlon asked, keeping his voice low.

“Aye.” Ceryk answered, “We need to intercept him.” With one hand held tight around the hilt of his sword, he motioned with the other for Cal’yn and Harlon to follow him. They were almost upon the man when their luck ran out.

A screeching roar of a dragon rent the early morning air just as alarms sounded from the fortress wall. Everyone froze, their gazes searching the sky, waiting for death to swoop down upon them. Then they saw it. The winged beast streaking across the orange and yellow sky, its deadly intent on the hooded man just mere feet now from where the three warriors stood. Even in all its terror, the dragon was magnificent to behold.

Ceryk couldn’t take his eyes off the magnificent beast. It wasn’t the largest dragon he’d ever seen, smaller than most. Its dark scales of molten grey and green covered a short, stocky body and powerful legs that tapered down to deadly clawed feet. Its wing span near thirty feet across from tip to tip, spread wide like an avenging angel against the early dawn. Thick, pointed horns jutted out from the top of its head that led to scaled spikes along the top of its neck and across its back, and down to the very tip of its long tail. Its deadly beauty entranced Ceryk.

“Go! Go!” Someone grabbed Ceryk by the back of his collar and pushed him forward, breaking the spell. Then the impossible happened. If they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, they never would have believed it.

The man threw the right side of his cloak over his shoulder as he reached across his body with his left hand and pulled a short sword from the scabbard secured around his slender waist. He planted his booted feet in a warrior’s stance, grinding his right heel into the ground to secure himself, and turned his body sideways to face the oncoming dragon.

With a war cry that rivaled even the fiercest of dragons, the man thrust the sword into the air just as the sun reached its highest peak and glistened on the jewels in the hilt. It lit up the sky like a beacon calling wayward warriors home.

The dragon stopped… just stopped. It hung there, midair, its massive wings flapping to keep its body suspended, its clawed feet outstretched toward the man as if to grab its prey. It’s long spiked tail swished back and forth, clearing everything in its path, stirring up dirt and soot into a great smoke cloud.

The wind stirred up by the flapping wings was like a whirlwind. The force of it was so great it was challenging for the three warriors to stay on their feet. They held their arms before their faces to protect against dirt and forest debris. The cloak and hood swirled around the figure of a woman, seemingly in the eye of a perfect storm. Dark waves of black hair swirled around her angelic face, set firm in grim determination. She stood fearlessly against the dragon’s wrath.

“A woman!” Cal bellowed above the roaring wind swirling around them. The dragon screeched as if in great pain, its prey just out of reach of its deadly, sharp claws. The woman raged as well, letting loose another war cry in defiance. She stood her ground, unbending. Both fought for dominance.

Both were magnificent!

Ceryk did not realize he was holding his breath until the sound of an approaching army caught his attention. Cal'yn and Harlon had already moved off, out of reach of the storm caused by the flapping dragon’s wings. The force of the whoosh, whoosh, drummed through him. He stepped closer, reaching out his free hand toward the woman to pull her to safety.

He was stopped short, as if an invisible wall stood between them. Then he felt it. Something shifted within him. No. It was more than that. He was… captured! He could feel the dragon in all its… No! this was not possible. No bonded warrior could ever connect with another dragon, not in this way.

Rage coursed through him. Such unimaginable rage, it brought Ceryk to his knees. He could hear the army now coming closer, but he couldn’t move. He needed all of his strength and that of his bonded dragon, Ysintat, to draw breath, lest he perish upon all of that rage.

Having bonded to a Ysintat at an early age, he understood the coming fire. He could feel it now building inside the dragon, like molten lava waiting to get out. It burned so deep, the fire, past the rage, past all knowledge and deeper still. The dragon screeched and Caryk roared with it, as if fire ripped through his very soul. So much rage, fury, and pain. All of it directed at this one defiant woman.

Ceryk tried to escape it, but he couldn’t. The pain was excruciating. “Ysintat!” Even she, his great dragon, struggled for release.

Somewhere in the distance, Ceryk could hear Cal’yn, or was that Harlon? Yelling at him to get up. He felt something pierce his side. Pain and an anguished gasp filled the air, breaking his connection with the dragon. “Archers!” broke through the haze in his mind. And then “Move. Snap out of it, Ceryk!” This from Harlon as an enormous hand grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

In that split second the woman jerked her head in his direction and without skipping a beat dropped and rolled just as the dragon roared out a ball of fire that scorched the earth she’d just been standing on, fire bouncing off the veil as she continued to roll her body out of its wake, sword still in hand even as the other grabbed her side, a broken arrow protruding from it. Then she was gone.

“Dragons bones!” Cal’yn bellowed as they all hit the ground, hopefully out of sight of that the approaching soldiers. More arrows flew overhead. If anything good had come from this cursed dragon, it stopped the advancing army. Cal’yn poked his head up, searching for that bloody woman! He glimpsed a dark cloak flowing behind a running, albeit staggering, figure. “By damn, she’s on the other side!” If there’s one thing Cal’yn hated more than these bloody dragons, it’s a tiresome woman.

“And we follow!” Ceryk bellowed. Still reeling from his connection to the dragon he rolled to his feet. “Now move.” There was a gap. He’d seen it just before his link with the dragon was severed. They had to get through that veil or they’re dead. Without a second thought, he ran through it, and just as Harlon, then Cal’yn, crashed through it closed. They had pierced the Veil!

“What the hell was that!” Cal gasped as the three crashed through the brush and collapsed on the ground, their hearts pumping wildly, breathing heavy, waiting for some normalcy to flow back into their veins. If anything could be called normal after that.

Ceryk, however, didn’t wait long before he was ripping his tunic off, frantically searching for the arrow that pierced him. “Where is it! Harlon, we need to get it out!”

Harlon jumped up and grabbed Ceryk by the arms, shaking him. “Get what out, man?” The wild look in his eyes alarmed Harlon.

“The arrow, ‘tis poisoned,” Ceryk said, then everything went black as he collapsed at Harlon’s feet.

It took the better part of half an hour for Ceryk to regain consciousness and another ten to shake the fog from his brain. As he slumbered, Cal’yn watched over him while Harlon had scouted ahead and picked up the woman’s trail.

It took another hour to catch up to her. Even in her weakened state, she took them on a merry chase through the dense forest. The further they went inland, though, the forest had thinned out, and Harlon had a better time tracking her down. The trail of blood she was leaving behind helped them immensely.

Ceryk was still trying to wrap his head around it. He could feel the blood leaving her body, could feel her life slipping away. Yet she pushed on. Why? He stumbled, still weak. By his connection to her or the dragon, he was not sure. Ysintat helped him but she was so far away it was taking longer than expected to regain his full strength. He'd be away from her for to long.

“There,” Cal said as he clapped Ceryk on the shoulder and pointed through a crop of trees. As if searching for something, she stopped. She just stood there, leaning against a tree for support, looking up into the trees and all around her. With a curt nod, as if resigned to her fate, she sagged to the ground, her back resting against the tree for support.

She was slipping away. He could feel it. “No!” Ceryk rushed forward, Harlon’s voice barely registering to him. “We’re being watched.” He had to get to her. He could not let her die, and not for any information she held, but for… he did not know, but he felt if she died now, then part of him would die with her.

“Captured more the like.” A deep voice said as a tall, dark warrior stepped from behind the trees just in front of Harlon and Cal’yn.

Cal curse and kicked the ground with the toe of his boot. She’d led them straight into a trap.

“I wouldn’t.” The warrior said when Cal’yn reached for his sword. He had it halfway out and then released it to fall back into its scabbard, his hands spread wide just as Harlon did the same.

Six warriors propelled down from the trees. As soon as their booted feet hit the ground, they had bows in hand and arrows notched, pointed directly at them. They were all women. Call cursed again, he was beginning to hate women.

“Bring them.” The warrior said, his dark hair flowing about his broad shoulders as he rushed toward Ceryk and the woman.

Ceryk was vaguely aware of the commotion behind him as he frantically assessed the woman’s wound, his dark eyes holding hers, begging her… for what he did not know. Her deep blue eyes locked with his. He sucked in his breath at the pain he saw there. It was gut-wrenching.

She was so bloody pale. “Stay with me now.” he gently shook her when her eyes drifted closed. Covering her wound with his free hand, he released his energy into her. With his connecton to Ysintat weakened by the Veil he did not have the full strength of her healing powers.

The woman gasped and her eyes flew open, meeting his gaze. “Do not.” She pushed his hand away. “To great a cost.”

Before Ceryk could respond, he was yanked to his feet and shoved into the hands of two warriors. A dagger appeared at his throat. Harlon and Cal’yn stood a few feet away, surrounded by three warriors, notched bows at the ready.

“Ah, Serena, love. What have you done?” The big warrior said, his dark head bent, inspecting her wound.

Serena. Ceryk darted his eyes to Cal'yn and Harlan, silently telling them to be quiet and cooperate... for now. He knew Cal'yn would not stand at arrow point for long, especially with a woman at the end of it. Ceryk shifted just enough so he could see Serena’s face. The dagger at his throat inched closer. Her eyes fluttered closed, then open.

“Rand,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“I’m here Serena. Let me take a look now.” Then “Gilliame!” He Bellowed over his shoulder.

“Sire!” A young boy rushed forward.

“Find Edelin. Bring her to the great hall. Be quick about it now.” Without a word, the boy nodded and was off.

“I can help her,” Ceryk said. The dagger nicked his skin.

“Leave off!” Cal’yn bellowed and surged forward in Ceryk’s defense. A fist connected with his jaw and dropped him to the ground. Dazed and shaking his head, he glanced up, past the arrow pointed at him, into a pair of very furious eyes. He shifted his gaze to meet Harlon’s, looking down at him. “Enough of that now.” Harlon said.

Bastard! Cal’yn glared at Harlon. Nothing ever riled that man.

Serena’s blood-soaked hand gripped Rand’s arm when he made to stand. “It’s too late, Rand. Poisoned.” she rasped and shook his arm to gain his attention.

“You little fool. How many times have I told you?” He seethed. He was angry, angrier than he’d ever been that she’d disobeyed him and now she may pay for it with her life.

By blood and bone! He’d have someone’s head for this. Rand slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her close until his forehead touched hers. “You will not die on me now. Aye?” He could not hide the raw fear in his voice.

“I saw her. Rand, I saw her. Please you must.”

“Shh.” Rand cut her off. “None of that now.”

“Please.” she cried, tears streaking down her face.

Rand shook his head, denying her words, and cursed when her head lolled to the side and she lost consciousness. “Elim, Tyre!” Two warriors rushed forward from the trees. “Take her.” Rand lifted her and handed her off to one warrior. “Get her to Edelin. Tell that old crone if Serena dies, I’ll have her head. I will not be far behind.”

Ceryk struggled now. He could not let them take her. Who the hell were these people? Why wouldn’t they listen to him? “Serena!” he roared, as if that very act would revive her.

“Enough!” Rand bellowed, facing Ceryk. “Who are you?”

“I can save her!” Ceryk bellowed back.

“Nay, Edelin will. Now answer my question, or your friends here will die where they stand.” He turned to glance at Harlon, then Cal'yn, still on the ground, then turned back to face Ceryk. “Or lay,” he growled. “How did you come to be in the Veil?”

“Walked right in, we did.” Cal’yn spat out. The warrior holding him at arrow point leaned in closer, She winked at him. The bloody woman winked at him! He growled in response.

Ceryk twisted his booted foot in the ground and settle himself. He reached a hand between the dagger and his throat and pushed its way. Only when Rand gave a slight nod did the warrior lower it completely. Cal'yn and Harlan didn’t so much as twitch as he crossed his arms in defiance. He knew they’d be ready if he made a move.

“I don’t like this one, Rand.” The woman-Warrior said, growling back at Cal’yn “Might make for a good meal though.” The other warriors had a good laugh at that.

“Silence!” Rand roared.

“A word.” A lanky man stepped up beside Rand, drawing Ceryk’s gaze, his hands folded inside the large sleeves of his priest’s robe, a determined expression on his hawk-like face.

Ceryk's eyes grew wide as he glanced at Harlon, who gave him a surprised look before he masked it behind indiffernce.

Harlon kicked Cal’yn to silence him before he could speak. “owe!”

They recognized this man. He heard an outraged gasp coming from the ground and pinned Cal'yn with an 'I dare you to speak' stare. He’d always been the most vocal of the trio and quicker to anger. Right now, Ceryk needed him to be the most silent.

“Not now, Solan,” Rand said without taking his eyes from his prisoners. His eyes narrowed. He didn’t miss the silent message exchanged between the three. They recognized Solan, he was sure of it. But how could that be? The answer to that was slowly creeping into Rand’s mind, and he quickly tamped it down. He would not give it purchase. Not now, never.

“Yes, now.” Solan challenged. Being a priest, he was the only one who would dare to do so. Since Serena’s disappearance, three nights ago he was in such a mood as to kill someone and Solan could not let that happen, not again and not to these three men. This could be their chance to right many wrongs, but if they could not convince Rand of that, then they’d never reclaim that valley, the fortress, or the dragons enslaved to it.

“Very well,” Rand grumbled, making his displeasure known. “Watch them,” he said to the rest of his guards.

“Every minute you waste, she comes closer to death!” Ceryk bellowed as he watch the guards disappear through the trees with Serena.

Rand pointed his sword at Ceryk, which drew him up short. “If he speaks again,” Rand said between clenched teeth. “Kill him.” Without another word or thought, he turned and followed Solan until they were out of hearing but still in full view of his captives.

“Speak quikly. I have some heavy decisions to make here. And I need to get to Serena.”

“This could be the answer for it all.”

“What?” Rand slammed his sword into its scabbard and gripped the hilt in an effort not to grab Solan around the throat and shake him. Oh, how this priest vexed him. Regularly. That damned prophecy and Serena’s visions were driving him mad.

“Please do not dishonor what remains of your family by standing there, claiming ignorance. You’ve seen the drawings.”

“When will you cease with this madness?”

“Are you going to punish her?”

“What! No, you fool.” She is near death. Shouldn’t that be punishment enough?

“He is the one.”

“What would you have me do?” Rand threw up his hands and started pacing. “I will not let her go.” He would not lose his sister to that… that… man. He could let none of them go. ‘Tis the only thing that had kept them safe, hidden from the rest of the world. Anyone who’d entered this forest, either by purpose or accident, never left it. The secrets it held needed to be protected by whatever means. If those means meant death for some, then so be it.

“Tell them the truth. Let them decide if they stay or go.”

“Let me get this straight.” Rand pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel an ache coming on. “You want me, your liege lord, who up to this moment has followed your dictates?” Only because he understood and agreed with them. “to now, at this very moment, break those dictates and let these three fools go free, and send Serena with them? Is this what you are telling me now, priest?” He spat ‘Priest’ as if it were a curse, which would be a stab to Solan’s pride, he knew.

“We will keep Serena’s man for now. The other two may leave.”

“He is not her man!”

“It is the only way, Rand.” Solan insisted when he saw Rand was about to deny him. “I understand what’s on your mind, my friend. She will never forgive you if you do what you are thinking.”

“Dragons need to eat,” Rand said, his voice hard, as he drew his sword and stormed toward his prisoners. Not one of them will leave this place alive if he had his way. Not until or unless he decided it to be so. He was the lord here, damn it.

“You will be my pris—”

“Liege!” Solan jabbed back with the same insulting tone Rand had used with him. He knew how Rand hated it when addressed as such, during many of their disagreements.

“Guests” Rand corrected. “Follow me.”

Rand led the group through the forest until they crested a hill overlooking a valley, not unlike the one they’d just escaped from, except for one extraordinary detail or maybe a hundred extraordinary details. Dragons littered the valley below. There were hundreds of them. So this is the reason dragons were rarely found outside of the Veil; why bonded warriors were near extinct. Dragons were trapped here.

“That explains it then,” Harlon said.

For once, Cal’yn was rendered speechless…

“Know this.” with the point of his sword at Ceryk’s back, Rand gave a little shove so that he stumbled forward. “eh, eh.” he turned his sword to the other two when they moved to intervene. Ceryk shook his head and waved them off.

“You will never leave this place,” Rand said. “Best resign yourselves to it. and that woman, whom you hunted.”

“We didn’t….” Cal'yn went silent when Ceryk hissed at him. He was never one to keep his peace, especially when threatened, and Ceryk knew he was finding it extremely difficult to do so now, but it was not the time or the place. He would have his chance, but not now.

“Whom you hunted.” Rand continued. “You will not go near her. If you attempt any contact with her, in any way… If she dies… these here dragons will have a grand feast. Catch my meaning?”

Rand waited until all three warriors nodded their understanding. “Good, then.” He jammed his sword back into its scabbard and walked away, throwing over his shoulder a very hearty, very belligerent. “Welcome to the Veil!”