A Dragon’s Tale

Rachel's jaw dropped when Ethan landed on the Argo's weatherdeck. "Holy mother of Ithlan... Is that...?"

"Yeah, it is." Ethan said with the biggest smile she had ever seen. "Untie her and put her somewhere safe, I need to go back for Alana."

The moment Beth was untied from his back, Ethan leapt into the air and headed off again toward Arcanum, pausing only long enough to gently remove the weight-reduction necklace from Beth's body.

Rachel stared open-mouthed at the blonde teen's stiff-as-a-board body and worked her jaw trying to find the words. There was no way she would be this well preserved -- with no foul odor -- and this stiff unless someone had put a stasis spell on her body.

The redhead also noticed the blonde's throat, which was miraculously healed. She knew enough about stasis spells to know that healing through a stasis spell would've taken a long time and an obscene amount of mana to accomplish. No normal mage could've done it in the nine days since Beth had been murdered.

This was the work of an arch mage.

She was sure of it.

"Hey, ain't she supposed to be dead?" Raklan asked when he wandered over.

"No... No I don't think she is." Rachel said, as her eyes got slightly watery. Raklan shrugged then wandered away as the rest of the crew came over.

"Who is that, and what happened to her?" Hailey asked.

"It's Beth and someone put a stasis spell on her." Rachel replied.

Hailey looked around at Rachel, in the direction of Taloni's mine, then toward Arcanum where Alana was.

"Hmm." She mused. "Ethan certainly surrounds himself with attractive young women; doesn't he?"

Rachel nodded. "You noticed that too?"

"Kind of hard to miss."

"I don't think he realizes he's doing it." Rachel said, and only then realized it was true. He was more concerned about helping people than surrounding himself with beautiful women, even after learning a harem of women might be the key to growing powerful enough to survive Lord Delmar.

Now that she thought of it, his first impulse upon learning that he needed to build a harem wasn't to focus on finding new women, but on taking care of Beth. That made him an incredibly unusual man. When faced with the prospect of bedding many women, his first thought was to take care of the ones he already had, not to find more.

Rachel cocked her head to one side.

She looked toward Arcanum and let her thoughts escape as a whisper. "You're a strange man Ethan Ejder."

* * *

Near midnight, Ethan landed as lightly as possible on the deck of the Argo and Alana slid from his back. Beth was still lying on the deck, though someone had lain her on a blanket. God, she looked beautiful. Even with the blood and dirt smeared on her face, she was still a vision in his eyes.

"What in Saidow's lair is going on?" Rachel asked moments after they landed.

Ethan recounted what they had found, and the redhead's face grew more confused and interested by the moment. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

"That's interesting." Rachel said as they described the runic circle they'd seen on the floor. "It almost sounds like a black incantation from the pit."

"The pit? You mean hell?" Hailey asked.

"What's a 'hell'?" Rachel asked.

"It's a place where-- never mind. What's the pit?"

Rachel frowned. "It was a conclave of dark mages that met a long time ago. They tried to conquer the Ten Kingdoms with the most unholy, grotesque spells you can imagine?"

"Like what?" Ethan asked.

The redhead ticked on her fingers as she recited the list. "Necromancy, zombification, will-breaker rings, ripper spells, and everything else you can imagine. There's even a legend that they tried summoning some of Saidow's minions to learn more about black magic. Most of the worst spells and enchantments used by dark mages can trace their roots back to the pit."

Raklan grunted. "So, what're we doing with this here corpse?"

"We're going to bring her back." Ethan replied with a huge smile.

"Can you do that?" Rachel asked looking skeptical.

"I don't see why not." He replied. "She was dead for less than a minute before the stasis spell was put on her, so there shouldn't be any brain damage. We just need to replace the blood, lift the stasis spell, and then a little CPR should do it... I hope."

"I hope so too, but..." Alana frowned

"But what?"

"The blood Ethan." The wood elf bit her lip. "Even if you could revive her, there's just nothing you can do to replace lost blood. It's impossible." she looked to be on the verge of tears.

"That's perfectly fine." Ethan said with a smile. "She just needs a transfusion."

"A what?" Alana and Rachel said at the same time.

He explained the process, and Rachel looked more disturbed the longer he talked. When he was done, she shuddered, closed her eyes, and appeared to be a little green around the gills.

"What's wrong?" Alana asked.

"That's utterly barbaric." She shuddered again. "What kind of depraved mind would think up something like that?"

"It'll save Beth's life and there are no side effects." He replied. "We've been doing it for centuries with no ill effect."

"I'd rather die than have someone else's blood running through my veins." Rachel clutched her stomach and looked to be nauseous. "Let me guess, it was a scientist who dreamed it up?"

"Yeah, it was."

"Figures." Rachel said, voice dripping with derision as she shook her head.

Ethan and Hailey shared a look; culture shock.

"What now?" Alana asked.

Ethan ran his hand over the top of his head and onto his horns, looked toward Taloni's mine, at Hailey, and then back at Beth. "We need to free Taloni first. Hopefully, that'll only take a day or two. Then we can find the slave camp that brought Hailey here. If we can find a portal to Earth, we can give Beth a transfusion and hopefully revive her."

Everyone except Hailey stared at him like he was completely insane.

"What?" He asked looking around.

"Stupid dragon." Raklan shook his head. "Why would you want to find a portal that takes you to earth? There's plenty of dirt down there." He pointed over the side of the Argo towards the ground.

"Oh." He said as comprehension dawned. "No, Earth is the name of the planet I'm from."

"Earth? You named your home earth?" Raklan scoffed. "Why didn't you just call it 'dirt' and be done with it?"

"I guess we sort of did." Ethan conceded. "Anyway, does anyone see a problem with that plan?"

Raklan opened his mouth to say something, but Serif almost absent-mindedly slapped him upside the head before he spoke. Raklan looked murderous until he saw who'd done it, then silently fumed. It was rather amusing to see the massive Raklan -- who was built like a linebacker -- cowed by a man half his size.

Rachel raised her eyebrow and then spoke with no hint of sarcasm. "I assume you mean besides the difficulty of defeating a dragon twice your size, finding a camp no one knows the location of, and -- assuming you can go through with the barbaric practice of blood-sharing -- raising someone who's been dead for over a week? Other than that, I see no problems whatsoever."

"The dragon shouldn't be a problem; we have gunpowder, remember?" He replied.

"Okay, but we don't have any guns or cannons to use it, so how does that help?" Hailey asked.

Ethan mimed pulling the pin of a grenade, letting the spoon fly, then throwing it and the explosion, complete with sound effects.

"That... that might work." Hailey nodded.

Again, everyone else looked at him like he was nuts. He explained what an explosion was, but no one besides Hailey really understood since the idea was so completely foreign to them.

"We just need to form the grenade bodies." Ethan mused. "Do we have some iron or steel on board we can use, and maybe some clay we can make into molds?"

"Absolutely, there's plenty in the hold." Anthiel replied. "It's standard aboard all airships. You never know when you'll need to make something."

"Perfect." He grinned. "Then we can start in the morning."

Rachel frowned. "So, assuming you're right about these 'grenade' things, how does that help us?"

Ethan smiled. "I have a plan."

* * *

"My Lord, the king?" someone said, which instantly roused the king from his slumber. He lamented the decades of late-night emergencies that had trained him to go from dreaming to alert in mere moments. It was a useful skill for a king, but sadly one he wished he didn't need. Alas, such was the life of an elven monarch or any ruler.

He looked around the room.

It was spartan as he preferred it. Most of the decorations were ornate wooden carvings, as befitted the high king of the wood elves. The light of the moon shone through the trees outside the window, allowing enough light to see, but not so much as to disturb sleep.

"Yes, approach." He said after sitting up and making sure his still-sleeping wife was appropriately covered by the blankets. Her golden hair and delicate, feminine features never failed to stir the blood in his loins. Plus, her pointed ears overheard nearly everything in the castle. Fortunately, she slept like the dead unless he roused her with a mental nudge.

"I'm sorry to disturb you my king." His herald Delabor said. "But don't I have news from Arcanum?"

The king nodded, acknowledging his statement which was phrased as a question. According to ancient tradition, a herald -- or anyone really -- knowing something the king didn't know would bring dishonor to the crown. Therefore, statements directed at him were always phrased as question, giving him the ability to say 'yes' or 'no', preserving the honor of the crown.

It was an ancient tradition steeped in honor, and to break that tradition would dishonor his ancestors. Bringing dishonor to one's ancestors was absolutely unthinkable.

"Yes, proceed." The king replied.

"A dragon used lightning in the Arena to defeat an opponent. And after striking her down, he raised her from the dead. Is that right my king?" Delabor finished with a question, again to preserve the honor of the crown.

The king rubbed his eyes and yawned, sure he'd misheard. "I must still be in clutches of sleep. Please repeat that."

He did.

The king felt his jaw go slightly slack. "A dragon used lighting and raised someone from the dead." He mused, then looked at Delabor. "Truly, this is wondrous. The High Luminar will need to be roused."

"I shall oblige at once my king, if you but command it."

"I do." The king nodded. "It would be wondrous if a true prophet of Illuminar had arisen again after all these years."

"My king, your wisdom goes before you."

"You have also shown wisdom by rousing me from my slumber with this urgent news, and thus brought honor to your family Delabor. You shall dine with my family at dinner tomorrow." The king replied. It was a great honor for a mere herald to dine with the king and would increase his standing in the court by leaps and bounds.

"My lord is generous beyond measure." Delabor said, then bowed low on his knees with his face touching the floor.

"Rise my faithful herald." The king said after an appropriate amount of time had passed, just as tradition dictated. When Delabor got up but didn't leave, the king added. "There was something else."

"You are most wise my king. Don't I have news of your wife's niece?"

"Her niece." the king repeated. His wife had several nieces and none were terribly interesting or troublesome. They kept out of trouble like his own daughters, but unfortunately not like his ward. She caused him no end of trouble via the mischief she had a knack for attracting.

"Yes my king. But of course, you knew I was referring to your wife's niece who..." Delabor paused a moment, then his eyes darted around the room as if to make sure he wouldn't be overheard. He needn't have bothered; there was no more secure room in the entire kingdom of the wood elves.

"Oh." The king said as comprehension dawned on him. "That niece."

"Of course my lord, as you already knew." Delabor said with a bow. His statement had assumed the king already knew, again to preserve the honor of the crown. "Haven't our agents recently seen her outside of her forest, just north of Arcanum? And didn't they report her being bonded to the same dragon who used lightning and raised the dead in the Arcanum Arena?"

The king of the wood elves grimaced. "Lord Nalfigar would not be pleased to learn of this."

"You are wise my king, but isn't this information only between us alone?"

"Of course." The king replied.

Now came the tricky part: he must ask for more information without dishonoring the crown by admitting the herald knew something he didn't. It was always a balancing act; asking without asking, and seeking information while keeping the appearance that he didn't need it... just as tradition dictated was proper and honorable for a king. Of course, Delabor knew this too, and -- as tradition dictated -- wisely spoke up to spare him and his ancestors the shame of asking.

"Further, as my king already knows, there is an irate Naiad named Adorelle who wishes to speak more on this matter, but is tangentially silenced by an oath which only Your Majesty can nullify."

The king sighed and looked wistfully at his pillow and still-sleeping wife; it would likely be several hours before he saw them again.