The Dragon's Eyes (50 page)

“I know,” I said. He gave me a doubtful look, but I
smirked. “I can feel it; there’s something a little sinister about the look in
her eye sometimes. Still, I love her, whether it’s good for me or not.”

He stood. “Just be careful.” He left and shut the
door quietly behind him.

I listened for the sound of his steps walking away.
There had to be a way to get out, to get to Mordon. I could ask one of the gods
for help, possibly Madus.

As I sat pondering my options, or lack of, I felt
something pulling me. It wasn’t a physical pull, but it was definitely pulling
something inside me. The world around me melted and reformed in a bright white
room. I was beginning to hate the color white.

Regivus stood glaring at me, not managing to induce
the same amount of fear as Divina had with the same glare. Or maybe I was just
done being afraid.

“After watching you and listening to my brothers, I
have decided to allow you access to Enep in order to heal the damage you and
Tiamat have caused,” he said in Enochian. His tone was meant to make me feel
that I owed him and he was doing me a favor by allowing me to heal his world.

“No thanks. I’m busy,” I said in English. He looked
startled; he must not have been watching me that closely.

“Your mission is to heal the worlds. Enep is one of
the worlds you need to heal,” he said as if talking to a slow child.

I really didn’t care what he thought at this point.
“I have a new mission that comes first.” His blank stare told me he really had
no idea what I was doing. “My best friend was attacked by the demon and pulled
into the void. I will save him before anything else.”

“The dragon child? You would risk the people of my
world for one person?” he asked, not actually with disapproval.

I think I had him confused at this point. With
enemies and children, it was best to keep them as confused as possible at all
times. Regivus was not my enemy or concern at the moment, though, and I had no
interest in battling wits with the god.

“Mordon was not just killed, he was never born. He’s
my best friend, the best person I know, and basically a brother to me for the
last three years, and no one even remembers him. To die is horrible, but to
never have lived is unacceptable. To not even be remembered is unacceptable. I
will save him, and I will do it before I help anyone else.”

“People of my world are being taken from time as
well,” he argued.

“And I will help them, but after Mordon. That demon
has taken someone I care about and I will not let anyone get in my way, not
even you. The demon will die. If you can’t help me, then don’t bother me. I am
officially off the call list until I destroy that demon as painfully as
possible and get my friend back.”

“The demon can easily kill you.”

“Not anymore. I will make him regret ever coming
after us. When I’m done with him, he will cower with fear in the smallest
corner in the universe. My name will be his nightmare, and the nightmare of
anyone else who messes with my friends or stands in my way.”

“I was told by several of my brothers that you were
extremely peaceful and would never refuse to assist anyone. It is against
Noquodi nature to refuse to help people.”

“Not when it comes to my family. A member of my
family has been attacked and all bets are off. I will hunt down, fight, and
kill anyone who comes after my friends or family. It doesn’t matter who is more
powerful than whom because I am more angry than I have ever been and nothing
will stop me.” 

Regivus was a powerful god who probably always got
what he wanted. I could imagine he was a leader to his siblings and was hardly
ever denied. He could do anything he wanted to me as powerful as he was; he could
kill me, force me to obey, or even strip my magic away. The gods could control
minds.

But not today. Not now, not before I could save
Mordon. The gods could wait, but Mordon couldn’t.

“In order to save your friend, you would have to open
a way to the void. It would be extremely difficult and dangerous,” he said, his
voice just a little softer. “Does your goddess approve of your priorities?”

“No, she doesn’t. I’m currently grounded in her
house.”

He laughed. “She is trying to protect you even from
yourself.”

“Yeah, she’s trying to protect me, Edward is trying
to protect me, and Mordon wouldn’t even be in this mess if he didn’t protect
me, but no one else is trying to protect him. No one remembers him, so even his
father isn’t trying to protect him, if the poor bastard is even still alive. I
know Mordon has saved his father’s life several times. He only has me on his
side now, and I have no idea how to help him. I don’t know how to open the
void.”

“Then Madus was right about you. I will show you how
to open the void, but the consequences of your actions are your own. If you
have the abilities of a god, you have the responsibility to use it wisely.
Otherwise, we will destroy you as you had Vretial.”

“Understood.”

He advanced until he stood inches from me and put his
cold hand on my forehead. His presence was overwhelming, causing shivers down
my spine, but I couldn’t let that deter me. Before I could ask what he was
doing, I was distracted by an unfamiliar sensation. It wasn’t memories, images,
or even energy that the god sent me. I could abruptly feel the void, and I
could see why the gods were wary of it.

The void was truly outside the universe, outside time
and space, but things could live in it. The place the dead went was like an
inside-out bubble. It was a bubble of the universe in the middle of nothing,
and there were other bubbles, too. None of these bits of universe were
possible; none of them made any sense.

The gods didn’t really even understand the void,
since it existed before the universe did. While the universe that we knew grew,
the void was infinite and all-consuming. It wasn’t necessarily an evil thing,
just something that should never be in contact with the universe or anyone in
it. And with my magic, I could tear open a way into the void.

I could feel it from a god’s perspective. When I
transported Mordon, Sammy, and myself from Dios to Vaigda, I had created a
protective bubble and tore through the void without realizing what I was really
doing. Now I knew exactly what my magic had to do. But the ability to tear
through the universe wasn’t all I was shown… Regivus showed me how to bend time
and space itself.

Whereas I was running on instinct before, I could now
control my magic. It took a few moments for me to absorb what I learned, but
Regivus waited patiently for my attention. “You are at a turning point in your
life, and the Iadnah have a decision to make. We could help you and train you
and keep you from becoming our enemy, or we could let you stand with your
goddess behind you and keep getting more and more dangerous with no direction.
I am taking a leap of faith in my sister and in you. Prepare yourself. Now go
and save your friend so you can get back here and heal Enep.”

“Thank you.”

I wasn’t actually somewhere new; my body was still in
Divina’s cabin. It was my soul, part of my soul, or my consciousness that met
with the god. When Regivus let me go, I simply woke up… but I was learning.

“I will kill him,” Divina growled. She stood at the
door, still with Sammy in her arms. He wasn’t crying anymore at least. “He had
no right.”

“He helped me,” I said, getting to my feet.

“He helped you commit suicide.”

“You have no faith that I can do this?”

“No,” she answered. Even as she opened her mouth to
continue, I had heard enough. I flashed out, breaking her shield without a
second thought.

The one place I could think of that wasn’t on Earth
or Duran was Dios, but midway through my traveling, I felt Regivus pulling me
somewhere else. Seeing as how he had just helped me, I let him. Unfortunately,
the landing was horrible.

I hit the ground hard and gravel fell on top of me. I
was sort of dazed and confused even as I was being unburied. “Welcome to Enep,”
Samorde said. “Regivus figured you would have better luck opening the void on a
world that you had not yet healed. The barriers are weaker here.”

“I will thank him when I see him again,” I said.

“I am sorry; I do not speak that language,” he said
hesitantly.

I hadn’t even thought about what language to use.
Whatever language he spoke sounded like a good choice, so I repeated myself in
a language I could understand and speak, but had never learned.

“Let me show you to a room where you can safely open
the void.”

We were underground, but the world felt different
than Dios. For one thing, the gravity was comparable to Duran’s. It also looked
less civilized, at least where we were; the tunnels were smaller and unlit.
Samorde guided the way with a basic torch.

Nominal energy swirled through me, curious about the
stranger. I let my Iadnah energy respond gently. It was a very timid planet,
full of docile, wounded people. Even worse was the wounds inflicted by the
ripples in the universe. It was like walking through the ICU at the hospital,
knowing that strangers just a few feet from you were dying and leaving loved
ones alone in the world. It felt wrong, even disrespectful to speak or make
noise among those suffering.

Samorde opened a heavy wooden door that seemed as if
it had appeared out of nowhere. Inside was a place of meditation and magic,
where small candles were placed strategically in the room and the floor was
marked with circles and symbols. Several cushions lay against the dark walls.
“I will guard the door from outside and make sure you are not disturbed. If the
demon escapes, please scream loudly so that I can run away.” With that parting,
he left me alone.

It took a moment to calm down enough to really
concentrate. I focused on the void, the emptiness of it, the impression that
Regivus had shown me. The nominal energy cleared away as if afraid of my
thoughts, but I could feel the damage all around me. It was against Noquodi
nature to allow anyone to suffer… it was against my nature to hurt anyone.

I reached into the worst wound I could find within
the immediate area and tore at it. The light filled the room slowly, right in
front of me, while the air stilled and grew cold. When the void was open enough
to form a door, the light spread apart.

I gasped in shock from what I saw.

Mordon

With my eyes shifted, I could see the crack opening just in time to
push Dylan out of the way. Unfortunately, I wasn’t expecting the demon to reach
out and grab me. As I felt the burning claws sink into my skin, I couldn’t
regret anything.

Over the stabbing pain, over the blinding white
emptiness, over the loss of any conscious thought, I heard Sammy calling for
me.

*          *          *

I came aware in a room I was intimately familiar
with; my bed chambers at my father’s estate. However, I wasn’t alone. My father
sat on my bed, gazing at the picture of my mother that I had always kept on my
bedside table. When I packed to leave, that was the only one I left behind
because she looked so sad in the picture. It was the same expression my father
had on his face.

He didn’t see me there, though he should have. Before
I could say anything, the door opened and my father’s advisor walked in.
“Rojio, I have told you a hundred times to knock before coming into my room!” I
scolded on reflex. Many times I thought he was trying to catch me doing
something disgraceful and possibly traitorous.

He didn’t look at me or even show any sign he heard
me. “Sir, Sujike-mor has arrived.”

“What is Sujike-mor doing here?” I asked. Sujike-mor
owned a fair-sized kingdom not far from my father’s and had a habit of being
the bane of my existence. Countless spies and assassins sent by him were caught
by me, and several wars were prevented. My father was a ruthless ruler, but
Sujike-mor was a worthless one. Again, neither of them heard me.

“Did he say anything about Mordon?” my father asked.

“He does not know your son has left. He is still
making his threats.”

My father sighed, looking more drained and tired than
I had ever seen him. “Good. The longer we have before they go after him, the
better.”

“Your son should be helping you ward off this
attack.”

I never saw Rojio look so worried before.

“What attack?” I asked. I knew they couldn’t hear me;
I was pretty much talking to myself.
Why can they not hear me? I was told my
father was injured and he looks healthy enough to me.

This appears to be on the brink of the attack that
caused his injury,
Rojan answered me.

Regardless of my father’s disappointment in me, I
cared about him and wanted him to live. I never doubted the story that my
father had overstepped his boundaries and moved in on the wrong people, but
that was not why I refused to return to help him.

I was afraid.

My father was a strong and sensible king once, I was
told, before my mother died. But the man I knew was ruthless and sometimes
careless. He trusted the wrong people and challenged those who were stronger.
He needed someone there to protect him, to stop him from making foolish
decisions. I was not that person.

My father was ashamed of me, but would do everything
in his power to make sure I was king when he retired. I had always wanted him
to be proud of me, but somewhere along the way, deep down inside, I must have
given up. I could never be king, not even to make him proud, not even to
protect him from his enemies and himself.

So this is before it happened? But I thought my
father was the one who attacked someone else. I didn’t know Sujike-mor was
involved. Can we stop this?

It has already happened. This is only a memory of
time as it fades from the universe.

“This is not his fight, and Sujike-mor should never
have gone after him.”

“Sujike-mor is trying to force you to uphold your
contract.”

“The contract is invalid. That deal was struck before
Mordon was born and had nothing to do with him.”

“Mordon may be distrustful and rebellious, but if you
told him of the situation you have been put in---”

“Then he would agree to it, I know. And I would rather
send him away and let him make his own way in life than guilt him into an
arrangement made for someone else. Anget would have been happy, but Mordon is
too… he has always wanted to make his own way in life. He would prefer to make
a bad decision and suffer the consequences than allow anyone else to make it
for him.”

“You are his father; it is your call to make.”

“I would hardly be his father if I did not want him
to be happy.”

“When he was a child, you only wanted him to be
alive. You would have sacrificed his happiness for his health.”

“And in that time I had my son to make me happy, but
it never took away the pain of what I lost. I realized that life may not be
worth it without happiness.”

“He would be a king.”

“He never wanted that, either. I blame Rojan for
that,” he said.

I felt a gentle pressure on my shoulder and turned to
look, only to find myself alone in a hallway. By the painting on the wall, I
instantly knew where I was. Movement caught my eye and I looked at the little
end table against the wall. I never knew why anyone put that table there, and
many people have tripped over it or hit it, but no one actually moved it.

Sitting underneath it, chewing on one of the legs,
was a little boy. Only about two, the boy nibbled on the wood with enthusiasm,
while staring right at me. I couldn’t breathe.

The small child had one blue eye and one purple; I
was looking at myself.

Fearing a paradox, I ran. The one place I would never
find myself is my father’s study, so that was exactly where I went. I threw
open the door, startling my father and Rojio. They both stared at the door, but
neither could see me.

How can I open the door if I’m not really here?

“Shut the door and lock it,” my father whispered.
Rojio did so as my father lit the lantern on his desk. Both of them looked much
younger, but that actually made sense when I just saw a two-year-old me. “What
was that behavior at breakfast?”

“The dragons, sir. They have sent a… message. They
want you to bring Mordon to their clutch.”

My father glared. “Absolutely not! That is breaking
their end of the deal!”

“Not unless they come into your kingdom. Actually
contacting the child is not against the agreement. They seem to want to know
how much he resembles Rojan.”

My father took a small statue off his desk and threw
it at the wall in anger. My father’s strength in his reign was his ability to
keep his calm. Even when he fought for more power, when he faced down his
enemies, and when he made irrational decisions in his quest for power, he was
always calm. He knew he would get his way and never let anyone rile him.

Rojan, what is going on? How do they know you?

“You tell the dragons to stay away from my son or I
will kill them all. He is sago! My son will have nothing to do with them!”

“Yesterday, Mordon grabbed a pan off of the cooker
with his bare hands. Nothing burns him. Last week, he bit the nurse when she
tried to give him inoculations, and he left fang marks. You need to face what
he is.”

“He is sago. If he ever believes otherwise, I will
kill every last dragon on Duran, as well as the person who put those thoughts
in his head.” The threat was evident, but Rojio was used to my father’s abuse.

“I have seen paintings of Rojan. If the dragons see
Mordon, they will know it is him.”

“I will make sure they never do. Now, go and get my
son. You will probably find him chewing on a table leg somewhere.”

“The future king of Mokii chews on wood.”

“Never scoff at my child. I will beat every drop of
peculiar behavior out of him. He will be a proper and happy king when I get
done with him. And if he starts sniffing things again, lock him in the
dungeon.”

When Rojio passed me to leave, I felt a pressure on
my shoulder, but I didn’t look. I watched my father until I knew the pressure
was a hand. I turned, expecting to see nothing. Standing very close to me was a
young woman, maybe a couple of years younger than me, but the light barely
reached her, so I couldn’t make her out very well. She put her fingers to her
lips and shushed me.

I turned to look at my father, but we had changed
locations again. I was in a sunroom of all places. Funny; we didn’t have a
sunroom at the estate. More importantly was that while my father was there, he
wasn’t talking with Rojio. Sitting in a chair next to him was a woman I had
never met, but whose face I would never mistake.

My mother sat there curled up on the chair as if
without a care in the world. “What do you think?” she asked. Her eyes were the
same purple as one of mine and her hair was light brown and flowed over her
shoulders to her lap.

My father reached over and rubbed her stomach gently.
“Mordon is a great name, unless it is a girl,” he said.

She laughed at his response. It was gentle and
sincere, like a mother should laugh. I choked. This was my mother, still alive,
who would die in childbirth. From her slim waist, I knew she was months off,
and the only thing that ran through my mind was to stop her.

You will do nothing of the sort,
Rojan growled
at me.

“He will be a boy. He will be brilliant, brave, and
loved by many.” Her smile dimmed and faded to a frown. She looked at my father
as if he could make her fears go away. “I still cannot see myself in his
future.”

He took her hand. “Sujike has promised to help us.
You will make it. If I had any doubt, I would find a way, even at the expense
of the baby.”

She ripped her hand out of his. “Never. You must
promise me now that even if you had a chance to save me, you would
never
risk
our child.”

There were footsteps from outside, running towards
the door.

I was standing in the forest, not far behind the
castle grounds. The harsh panting of a little boy and his stumbling steps were
the only sound. It was winter and dead leaves littered the ground, but there
was no snow or ice, since Mokii was a fairly warm climate. Oddly, I felt disconnected
and unaffected by the cold.

Once again, I knew as the boy ran passed me that he
was a younger version of myself. He looked about four, and he didn’t see me.
When the castle bells blared, I followed him, for I didn’t remember this and
wanted to know what happened.

The child tripped and hit the ground hard. He rolled
over onto his side, curled in on himself, and shivered violently. I could hear
the guards searching the woods in the distance. Part of me wanted them to find
him and make him warm, part of me wanted them to leave him in peace.

Having been in this child’s place, I wasn’t expecting
the massive dragon that swooped down on him. Blood, the same dragon I had met
in the Aradlin forest, landed with a quiet grace from his hiding spot in the
trees. His tail whipped with agitation as he watched for the guards that were
getting closer. He sniffed the child cautiously. The much younger me looked up
and reached his hand out to pet the dragon, still violently shivering. This
felt so familiar, but I was obviously too young to have remembered the details.
When a shout was made that the boy’s tracks were spotted, Blood covered the
child with his great wings and laid low to the ground, becoming completely
still.

The guards, some familiar, some not, passed around
the dragon as if they couldn’t see the huge beast. When they were gone, Blood
folded his wing against his back and there were scorch marks on the ground.
“Thank you,” the boy said. “What is your name?”

The dragon made a huffing noise.

“That is a funny name.”

In the blink of an eye, it was dark and we were in a
cave. A fire was lit and the boy was telling the dragon about life as a prince
from the eyes of a four-year-old. The poor dragon must have been bored out of
his mind. I guess I had to be thankful Blood didn’t eat me.

“I should go now. My father will be very angry that
I’m gone,” the boy said, standing up. The dragon stood too, and huffed. The boy
smiled. “I can’t go with you, I have to go home. My father needs me. I will
come back in a few days.”

The cave changed with a flicker. Instead of a
four-year-old me, I was facing another boy who looked about seven, and a woman.
The woman was gorgeous. She wore a long, willowy, dark green dress. Her hair
was dark, blood red that lightened to fiery yellow underneath and towards her
face. Her eyes were forest green, and her skin was fair. The glare she gave the
boy greatly diminished her beauty.

The boy looked nothing like her; he had shaggy black
hair to his chin and his eyes were vibrant blue. He looked very similar to me
at that age, but he had single-colored eyes, his skin tone was a bit darker,
and his facial structure was different. The light green tunic he wore over
brown pants was charred and covered in dirt. He wore one dark brown boot, and
his other foot, bare and scraped, was tucked discretely under the other. The
boy sat on his knees in front of the woman and tried to look contrite, but was
failing.

“You escaped your sister again,” the woman said. I
felt Rojan cringe.

Is that kid you?
I asked him. He didn’t
answer, but I could feel his thoughts that, yes, this was Rojan as a little
kid, in his person form. I guess I wasn’t the only one who got to suffer
flashbacks.

“She was not teaching me anything important,” the
young Rojan said.

“Manners are important! All of our people will look
to you for guidance as they do your father, and you will not disgrace him with
your insurgent ways.”

“Mother, I only went flying. How is that rebelling
against Father?”

“You knew you had to be at the ceremony this morning
after your lessons and you missed it on purpose.”

“I did, but no one wants to be at the ceremonies. The
other dragons say they are outdated and theatrical. Marnd said that when he
grows up, he will get rid of the ceremonies.”