"Drafain Saga Bk1 Ch. 4" by Gardner ´Jameal´ Williams

Kay-Ree

Chapter Four:

Clippety clop, clippety clop, clippety clop. The sound of a horse coming up the trail they had left yesterday alerted Tad that they might be followed. She had tended to Jameal’s wounds all night and was tired. She tried to wake Jameal but could not, he was in a deep sleep, his wounds were grievous and she had little doubt that he would never be as strong or skilled as he was before the fight with the human. At first she had not believed him, Humans were things of legend, things to frighten little children, and who was this enemy? She finally decided the destroyed inn was enough proof it was a human and she would ask him about the enemy when he awoke. The horse, she crept towards the road keeping carefully concealed and soon the road was in sight. The horse was coming from the opposite direction than the town, coming towards it rather than away, She sighed with relief. So relieved she did not notice the small ring precariously placed in an over full saddlebag, fall out of the bag onto the road. She turned and crept back towards their small camp concealed in the woods. When it was insight she froze as she saw Jameal hunched over rocking back and forth crying something, as she got closer she heard it clearly.

            “My child, my daughter, dying, help me, she is dying, help me, please.”

He repeated it, grief stricken.

            As she got closer she noticed something odd about him but couldn’t place her finger on it. Just as she reached the edge of the camp Jameal keeled over and looked dead. She rushed towards him and was relived to see him breathing, upon examination he appeared to have been crying, she frowned at this, what could make a renowned warrior cry. And then she realized what she had seen odd about him from a distance, he was completely healed.

            The next day Jameal awoke but for hours frustrated a concerned Tad as he only rocked back and forth hunched over on his heals crying and muttering

“My child, my daughter, dying, help me, she is dying, help me, please.” Over and over. She didn’t notice when he stopped a little bit after mid morning having tuned it out an hour ago. She didn’t notice until his hand was on her shoulder and she turned around to see him, still grief stricken, but awake. He said

“What’s for breakfast?” in a very sleepy, sore throated voice.

“You can have tea and oatmeal, you need to work up your strength after sleeping for so long.”

“M’ fine just a little off after sleeping for, how long?”

“Two days and I still say you need to build up your strength, Dragon born or no.”

“WHAT?!? When did you find out?” He asked incredulously.

“That battle cry you let out during the battle with the human, I told you when we made camp here that I understood why I couldn’t meet your family, though now that I know I guess I can.”

“You still trust me even though you know what I am?” He could hardly believe it.

“I knew you before I knew you were dragon born and I realize that your people are not as bad as rumor has it.”

“You’re a good person Tad many people would have finished me off while I was healing I owe you.”

“Not at all, and about that, how did you heal so quickly and completely I never heard anything about that even in the rumors.”

“We can’t it’s just that I had a dream, at least I think it was a dream, and in it I met the father of my people, and he showed me…visions.” He fell silent.

“And, you never told me you had a daughter, why is she dying? A disease, an injury?” She asked full of concern.

“I don’t have daughter,” He said confused, “It was a dream, but so real,” And he began to sob again.

“It’s okay, Jameal, just a dream.”

“But so real, she was right there, dying, It’s okay, I’m better, we need to get started, but first how about that oatmeal and tea?” he said smiling weakly.

“Of course.” She said feeling he was acting a bit odd. “So, what’s it like being of an outcast race?” She asked suddenly, trying to make conversation.

“Well, I suppose it’s not much different from being of any other race except that if someone asks you where you’re from you smile and change the subject, making sure you use an identifying phrase.”

“I thought the idea was not to be identified.”

“The identifying phrases are certain phrases that are used by Dragon born travelers to identify other travelers in case of eavesdroppers, they sound quite innocuous, and are useful if you want some company of your own race.”

“I see, breakfast is ready.”

***

            After breakfast they set out, saddling their mounts and walking them out to the road. As they reached the road Jameal noticed something on the ground.

            “What’s this.” He said as he bent down to examine it, “why it’s a ring. Looks like silver with a sapphire stone set in it,  what an oddly shaped stone.” He picked it up and examined the small wave shaped stone on the ring, as he did so a slight thrill ran through him and he realized what it was. “It is the ring of the water Rage, if we return it we get any one thing within her power to give, this will be very useful for the quest.” He exclaimed and he heard words echoing in his mind; <all things come to those who wait but they come faster to those who rush to great them, you do not have time to wait>, this was followed quickly by a vision of the crumpled, broken form of a young woman, his unborn daughter he had yet to sire.

            “We must ride quickly now, I fear there is little time.” And he spurred his old stallion to a run.

            When she finally caught up with him some distance down the road Tad asked Jameal, “Back there you called the water rage a she, I thought they were all either male or sexless, why?”

            He chuckled a little before answering, “they’re called rages, have to be female, there is now rage like that of a woman.” And he carried on chuckling.

            A few hours later it grew dark, and with no inn in sight the cut off the road and settled in for the night.

            “Looks like rain tonight, better cover up,” stated Tad her words punctuated by a low rumble from the sky overhead.

            “You can, I could use a good cleaning, just keep my gear dry will you?” and he tossed his packs at her, tied his horse securely to a tree and found two decently spaced trees and tied a sheet of canvas between them, stripped off his shirt revealing a back with two ridges on either side of the spinal column, one of the characteristics of the dragon born.

            The storm came, the dream came. A lone Drafai stood on a hill wings spread, sword held high. At once he could tell it was the one called ‘Deathstryker’ and the blade was that same living, changing blade as before. The storm was windy and the rain was driven almost parallel to the ground, lightning struck all around an hail fell the size of fists, miraculously non fell on Jameal or Tad, in the dream the Drafai was assailed by it on all side never seeming to be injured or swayed by the tremendous hits the scored, lightning struck the blade that was pointing blade straight into the sky and wind and rain wrapped themselves around the blade.

            “DEEEEAAAAATTTHHHSSSTTRRYYKKEEERRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” it cried in a mighty bellow that could have shaken mountains too their roots. And then, incredibly it steeped down from the hill towards the dream figure of Jameal and handed him the sword, a voice whispered and the noise seemed to dull the sound of the raging tempest around them. It said.

            “You are the Deathstryker of legend, you will wield the Phoenix blade, the storm will answer to your call, you and your sister, your brother is doomed to fail and seek power by other means, you must prevent him. These things are of a future that has already happened, they cannot be changed just as some powers defy imagination, some strengths and, abilities are beyond comprehension and yet you will be more than these things, it has been foreseen and can no longer be altered. And yet some things can.” A woman appeared in a clearing, a young girl appeared with the same dark black hair, but slightly wavy instead of straight, an accident, terrible she is dead. <This you can prevent but not in any obvious way> a Drafai on a hill in a storm bellowing

            “I AM JAMEAL BELUVIEN DEATHSTRYKER< WARRIOR OF THE STORM< KISS MY BLADE!!!!!!!” A man dressed in strange clothing black with gray and clothe of gold, that bore a remarkable resemblance to himself only more care worn. A doorway, the gate of the eternal, linking, binding…

            “Uh!” and Jameal was awake seeing the storm had abated leaving the forest a ruin of fallen damp wood but the tent was unharmed. He also noted that his Mercurial steel sword was missing, he had purposely left it on the ground under his hammock in case he needed it but it was gone in it’s place was a dull silvery broad sword of an unknown metal an inscription on the blade read in elder dracian script, “This blade comes to him who has great need, that in the hour of his despair he might find salvation.” A harness for the sword lay nearby and he found that it was quite dry and fit perfectly. The horses were unharmed and surprisingly approachable though they had just been through the center of what was quite possibly the worst storm the lands had seen in a hundred years but the trails were impassible when mounted, the horse’s great weight would sink in the muddy trail. This problem was solved as Jameal remembered a trick from his time as a ranger and he set about weaving some of the smaller branches into pads and soon he had eight of them as Tad watched on interested. They were fairly large but not so as to overlap if tied on say the hooves of a horse which amazingly he proceeded to do until both horses had these strange apparatus’s on each of their hooves.

            “Wassat for?” asked Tad.

            “The pads will distribute the horses weight on the mud like snowshoes on snow, it’s a ranger’s trick I learned a few years back, the horses will be a bit awkward at first but will get used to it quickly. Come on let’s go.” And he mounted up after arranging his gear on the horses back and she noticed something different about him.

            “Where’d you get the sword?”

            “Found it after the storm, weirdest thing the harness seemed to have been made for me.” And he left it at that. True to his word the horses soon got used to the mud shoes and they were moving along at a good pace. A few days later and the ground was covered with snow instead of mud. It was a gradual change, the air growing colder until the ground was frozen and instead of rain the storm had been one of snow. They had passed into the coldness of the Westland before the Mountains of Storm. The mud shows proved equally adept at preventing the horses from sinking in snow and they continued, catching glances of the Storm Mountains through the evergreen trees that comprised the forest’s of this region, the glance took even their breath away, who had seen and passed over the trails of those mighty peaks. Soaring for thousands of feet snow capped at the top even in summer, their were four peaks, the four that formed the central caldera that held the storm, these four mightiest peaks were rumored to be higher than there was air for a climber to breath, and many had lost their lives trying.

            “The mountains of Storm, the backbone of the world, they will take your breath away in more ways than one, every time.” Said Jameal and then fell silent as they continued on towards their goal.

***

            “Father, I have had a strange dream, and yet… it was more than a dream, a vision perhaps of things to come. I see my brother and a strange woman I have not seen before, they are one somehow, joined, facets of the same soul