Master's Mind (The Dagger of Dragon Rose Book 1)

The truth is often far stranger than fiction. - Shantar Fantis, Dragon Bard

When Nathan awoke the next morning he was lying in his bed. He had no recollection of coming home, and he did’t know how he ended up in his pajamas. A packed travel bag was at the foot of his bed. His knife, short sword, and both of the Katanas - the one that had been given to him by his last swords teacher and the one that he had found in the mansion the previous night - were strapped to his weapons belt. He didn’t remember retrieving his sword from the guild.

On the table that stood next to his bed was a small pile of bloody glass shards. He had no doubt where they had come from. When he had smashed through the window to flee the mansion the falling glass had embedded itself in his wings. This clue also answered the question of how he had gotten into his pajamas. His mother had dressed him. He felt no embarrassment. His mother ran the medical clinic here in the Human quadrant of the city. She was a professional healer. She was used to seeing people with partial, or no, clothing on.

The dream that he had been having came back to him, more real this time than it had ever before. He had seen the place where Knoro had been attacked by the shadow monsters. He had been in the old prophet’s house. He had a sudden, frightening, idea of what the crystal ball that he had been sent to find was. He had been sent to steal the Sun Fire Orb. He wished he had realized this before going to the house. It would have saved him the bruised ribs and the cut up wings. The dream showed the Orb being taken from the house by the dark elf woman Shalarandra Kaardrannan.

The dreams were very unsettling. They went against everything he knew about the Dark Elves. They were supposedly an evil race, created by Dareth himself. In the dreams the dark elf was caught and murdered after trying to keep Knoro, a human prophet of the Light Bringer himself, from dying. Why would a follower of the Dark Lords try and keep an enemy alive? It just didn’t make any sense.

A sudden knock on the door brought him out of his reverie.

“Nathan, are you awake?” His mother’s voice asked.

“Yes.” He answered

“May I come in?” She asked.

“Yes” He answered.

Zorah opened the door and entered the room. Sitting on the end of the bed she examined him.

“You certainly look better then when you came in last night.” She said with a serious note in her voice.

He gave a half hearted shrug. He didn’t know if he dared speak, the inner turmoil was almost more than he could bear. Every time he looked at either of his Human parents the questions he longed to ask them bubbled to the surface. He knew he wasn’t their real son, that much was discernable, just by looking at him. He was quite obviously an elf. He longed to know where he came from. Who he really was. Every time he had asked this question in the past, they had either changed the subject or simply refused to answer. He didn’t know why this time would be different, but he couldn’t keep himself from asking.

“Mom, where am I from. Who am I, really?” He asked nervously.

Zorah smiled sadly. “We always knew this day would come, we just hoped that we would be able to hold on to you a bit longer.”

Nathan opened his mouth to ask another question, but she raised her hand to silence him.

“Twelve years ago,” She began. ” Jarno and I were on our way to Avaleht, the Elf capital city, to deliver a sword that he had created for the king.” She paused for a moment, a strange look coming over her face. “We went to deliver that sword.” She pointed to the metal katana, the silver dragon etched on its blue blade glimmering in the sunlight coming through the window. “That is the sword that Jarno created for Paron Elloy.”

She shook her head. “I digress.” She closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. When she opened them again, she had a far off look. “When we got to the capital city, we found that it had been destroyed. Many of the buildings were smoldering when we got there. There were bodies strewn all over the streets. Many were burned beyond recognition, others were frozen solid, while others still had horrible expressions of agony etched on their faces. The castle itself had been destroyed.

“Jarno and I searched for most of the day looking to see if we could find any survivors. We imagined that there were at least a few, because we found some tracks that led off in the direction of Hope’s clinic.

“We were just about to give up when we found a small child wandering aimlessly. He was dazed and seemed to have lost any memory of who he was. His face was bloodied from a wound on his forehead that was bleeding profusely. Surprisingly, however his wings were undamaged. Jarno wanted to leave him to fend for himself, but I insisted that we bring him home.”

It took Nathan a few moments to realize what she was saying. They had found a winged child and brought him home. She was talking about him.

“You mean you found me?” Nathan asked.

“That is correct dear.” She answered, sadly.” Now you know where you are from. As to who you really are? That is a tougher question. You couldn’t remember who you were. Your parents never came looking for you, so Jarno and I raised you as our own. We don’t know who your parents were.”

Nathan’s mind was reeling with the information that he had just received. When he had asked his mother the taboo questions, he had expected her to dodge them like she usually did. He hadn’t actually expected her to answer. The fact that she had, made him more uncomfortable. It meant that something had changed, and it probably wasn’t good.

As if reading his mind, Zorah looked directly at him. “The job last night was a trap. Garz sent word to me just before the guild hall was raided warning me that you were in danger. He also sent your sword.”

Nathan didn’t know what to say. He just stared at her open mouthed,

“Garz and I have been friends since we were children.” She explained. “It was only a matter of time before it came out that you were working for him. ”

“Mom. I’m sorry.” Nathan apologized.

“There is no need. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with him. I told him to stay away from you.” She looked at him with a serious expression on her face. “It is no longer safe for you here. You must leave.”

“What... Why... I can’t just leave, I am still a child.” Nathan protested,

“No, you are not. As an Elf you have already entered the years of manhood.” A single tear slid down her cheek as she lifted the travel sack and handed it to him. “I am sorry, but you must leave.”

“Where do I go?” He asked, sounding like the scared child hiding within him.

“Go your own way, just like you always do.” She said handing him his weapons belt. “Trust your instincts, they will never lead you wrong.”

Without another word, she rose and left the room.

Nathan knew that his mother would not be making him leave if the situation wasn’t dire. He just wished he knew what was going on.

He tried not to think about it as he climbed out of bed and quickly dressed. As he attached the weapons belt around his waist, he decided that it felt strange with the weight of the two large swords on it. He was used to only having a short sword, the blue katana, and the dagger that his father had given him when he was five. It had been a reward for him stopping a thief from stealing from his father’s booth at the harvest festival.

The irony of his situation finally hit him, and he began to laugh. When he was five, he successfully stopped a robbery, and now he was the best thief in the city.

Slinging the travel pack over his shoulder, he walked into the main section of the house. His mother was sitting in her customary rocking chair next to the fire knitting, trying to put on a brave face, but Nathan could see that her heart was breaking. When she saw him she rose from her chair and approached him.

“Mom, I...” Nathan started, but Zorah placed a finger on his lips to silence him.

“It’s okay.” She said. “Just don’t forget me.”

“You were a wonderful mother.” He told her. “I wish you could have had children of your own..”

She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. “May the Light Bringer speed you on your way, and may your pathway ever be bright.” She broke the embrace and shooed him out the door. “Go, before you never get around to it.”

Nathan smiled and disappeared into the city.

Zorah stood staring at the point where her son had disappeared for several hours remember the past twelve years. Her heart ached at the thought, but the tears refused to come. He had been her only child. Now he was gone and she would probably never see him again. Even if she did see him again, he would be changed.

As the sun began to set, she turned and went back into her home.

“Farewell, your majesty.”

Nathan wandered around the city with no destination in mind. He steered clear of anywhere that he might run into Parel. He just wanted to be alone and think until he could come up with a plan. About mid-day, he found himself in the cemetery in the Elf quadrant. He didn’t know why he was there, but he felt that this was a good place to start finding his answers. He was drawn to the center where two marble tombs stood. Words were emblazoned above the door of each building.

The larger of the two buildings glimmered in the sun. Above the door it read:

Here lies our beloved king Paron and his queen Ahlana

The bodies of their four children were not found in the castle ruins.

They are considered dead as well.

The smaller of the two buildings stood in the shadow of the larger one. Above the door it read:

Here lies Knoro Tallarian

Last prophet of Naratha - the Light Bringer

Heed the words he spoke :

When out of west Beast threatens life

A weapon shall come from the East to end all strife

Forged in Sun Fire’s light

Blade of Dagger

Flame of Dragon

Thorn of Rose

Child Master on wings of fire

Shall slay the beast of old

Nathan stared at the first line of the inscription. Here lies Knoro Tallarian. He didn’t realize the Knoro would be buried here. Knoro was a Human. The Elves would have never allowed him on this hallowed ground in life, much less in death. And yet, here he was.

“What do you want with me.” He yelled at the small marble building. “You are obviously trying to communicate with me.”

A sudden flash of his dream came to him. Knoro was standing in a dark alley, having just been saved from the shadow creatures. In front of him the moonlight glinted off of shiny black skin.

“Ah, Shantar my old friend.”

Suddenly it was clear. Why hadn’t he thought of it before. If anyone really knew who he was, it would be the Dragon Bard.

He was in a much brighter mood as he turned to head toward the Dragon Storm’s Refuge Inn, located at the center of the city. It was the only building that was located in all four quadrants at the same time. This allowed creatures from each section of the city to come and listen to the bard tell his tales.

As he approached the cemetery’s exit, an old Elf saw him. He was confused when the aged elf fell to his hands and knees. “Your Majesty.”

“I am sorry?” Nathan asked. “You must have me confused with...” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as the old elf went running off.

He wasn’t quite sure what that had been all about, and he didn’t worry about it too long. He had a destination, and he wasn’t going to let anything side track him.

It only took him about five minutes to reach the inn. He stood there listening to the minstrels playing a lively tune while the people inside danced merrily. This was not an uncommon scene, even this early in the day. The inn was never closed, even when the bard wasn’t present. There was always something going on there.

The building looked brand new, even though it had been there for as long as he could remember. The walls and roof gleamed brightly in the afternoon sun. The windows were clean and bright with light from within. The large wooden double doors were highly polished. Nathan had to shield his eyes as he peered in through the large bay window in the front of the building.

He saw many people that he recognized in the line of figures that were dancing around the room. He saw victims and patrons. He saw people that he liked and some that he was not overly fond of. Almost every one he knew seemed to be in there.

He almost lost his nerve when he saw Zorah and Jarno dance across the window. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to face them. He knew that Jarno had dragged Zorah here, trying to take her mind off of her son’s departure. The only thing she loved more than dancing was listening to the bard’s tales. He was about to turn and leave when he saw something that changed his mind. The minstrels had finished their tune and through a part in the crowd he saw a flash of raven colored hair.

“Parel!” He exclaimed as he moved quickly towards the building.

As he entered the building a sandy haired Human approached him.

“Greetings, young master, we have been expecting you.” He said. “The bard is busy at the moment, so you will need to wait to see him.”

Nathan began to nod, until he realized what the man had said. “Wait, how were you expecting me? I didn’t even know I was coming here.”

The man just smiled and waved his hand dismissively.

Nathan recognized the gesture as a refusal to answer the question, so he moved to let the man leave. He moved to the location where he had seen Parel, but she was gone.

“Your friend is with the bard.” The man said from behind him. “You will need to wait until they are done to speak with him. Until then, make yourself at home.” He offered Nathan a drink. “Here is a glass of our finest mead, on the house. If you require anything else, please let me know.”

“But, she was...” Taren began, but was unable to finish as the man hurried off to see to a nearby patron.

Nathan sat in a comfortably upholstered chair next to the fire place and waited for his turn to see the bard. He wondered if Parel was alright, and what she was discussing with the enigmatic bard. She had looked upset when he saw her through the window. He didn’t know what had happened. She was usually so happy, he didn’t like to see her distressed.

He sipped on the drink as he waited.

“Young master, it is your turn to see the bard.” The Human innkeeper was gently shaking his shoulder.

Nathan had not realized that he had fallen asleep, and when he awoke he had a splitting headache. The slightest sound caused his head feel as though it were about to explode. The light from the candles, it had grown dark while he waited, pierced his retinas with painful accuracy.

The mead that had been supplied to him was very mild as far as drinks went, and he had only had one, but it had been enough that he was now suffering from a very real hangover.

“Oh dear. It appears that you have a slight intolerance to alcohol. Wait here a moment, I have just the thing.” The innkeeper said as he bustled off to the bar. When he returned he was holding a goblet that was smoking. “Here drink this. It will help.”

Nathan accepted the proffered cup and slowly drank it. The liquid burned his throat as it went down, but he noticed immediately that his head was beginning to hurt significantly less. He was feeling much better by the time that he took the last swallow. Handing the goblet back to the innkeeper, he climbed to his feet.

He waited as the goblet was returned to the bar, and then he followed the innkeeper through a side door. They quickly descended a flight of stairs into a brightly lit stone corridor. The stone was white with flecks of gold intermixed here and there. There were halls shooting off of the main corridor every few yards. Nathan followed the man, amazed by his ability to navigate the intricate maze with un-erring accuracy.

When they reached a metal door - the only door that Nathan had seen - the innkeeper turned to him.

“I will leave you here.” He said, turning back the way that they came. “Once you enter that door you will be in the bard’s presence.”

Nathan watched as the innkeeper disappeared back up the corridor.

Not sure if he should knock or just enter, Nathan stood there just staring at the door. He knew that the answers that he had been searching for his whole life were on the other side of this door, and the prospect suddenly frightened him.

He raised his hand to knock, and the door slid silently open before he could.

He was not prepared for what he saw when he entered the room beyond. He was standing in a large cavern. Off to the left there was a large mound of gold, gems, and various bits of other treasures all heaped into a large mound. On the side of the mound was a large indentation where the gold looked to have been melted together forming a large bowl. On the right there was a large four post bed that was draped with very fine satin coverings. Directly across from him was an ornate desk. Sitting at the desk was Parel and the bard.

Shantar Fantis, the Dragon Bard, was a sight to behold. His skin was shiny black, There was a blood red scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his mouth. He had shoulder length charcoal colored hair. His eyes were solid gold with no pupil or iris.

Parel was a lovely as ever, dressed in a simple green skirt and a long sleeved white blouse. Her long black hair was woven into a tight braid, with little tufts sticking out of it here and there. She wore a hard look on her face like she and the bard had been having a very serious discussion, and she was not happy to be interrupted.

As Nathan entered, Shantar glanced up at him. Nathan saw a brief smile flicker across his stony lips, and disappear just as quickly. The bard said something to Parel, and she stood up angrily, slamming her fists on the table . His eyes briefly flashed a bright gold light, and she stalked over to the bed.

“Welcome, young master.” Shantar spoke in his musical voice. “I have been expecting you.”

There it was again, the acknowledgment that he had been expected. He wanted to ask how it was that it was known that he would be here before he himself had known, but he was unable to form the words. He had never been in the presence of the bard before. He had never felt the awesome presence of the one that was, reportedly, several thousand years old. Standing there unable to speak, Nathan almost believed the stories that he had heard.

“Come now,” Shantar said, gesturing to a chair by the desk. “come and have a seat. We have much to discuss.”

Nathan took the seat across from the bard.

“Now, I expect you have some questions for me.” The bard said as he rested his chin on his hands.

“Who am I?” Nathan asked.

“Now that is an interesting question.” Shantar said thoughtfully. “I think I would rather show you than tell you.”

The bard’s voice changed. As he spoke colors began to detach themselves from all over the room, coalescing in a maelstrom in front of Nathan until a picture began to form.

Fluffy clouds floated lazily across the sky, casting shadows on the ground below. Heat waves emanated from the ground wilting the plants in the gardens that surrounded the castle. In the distance a waterfall could be heard, adding a counter melody to the song that the insects were singing in praise of the day. Despite the heat, the castle was buzzing with activity as the grounds were being readied for the celebration of Queen Ahlana’s birth anniversary.

An ear piercing scream echoed through the castle grounds, causing all present to pause and look around nervously.

In an inner chamber of the palace, the queen was laying on a table quivering from exertion. She had already given birth to three babies - all girls - and her strength was failing as her body was trying to allow the fourth child to escape her womb.

“You are doing fine, majesty.” Sareth Hope said, trying to offer encouragement to her queen.”

Next to the queen, Paron Elloy stood holding his wife’s hand. “It will be finished soon, my love.”

At his words, Ahlana’s body relaxed. Seeing this, Sareth reached up and placed her hand on the queen’s swollen belly. Soothing blue light flowed from her hand into the queen, bolstering the queen’s strength. One more push, and the child was born.

Sareth took the child, wrapped it in a blanket. “Sire, your son.”

Paron smiled briefly, but he did not take his eyes off of his wife. The exertion had taken much out of her, and she was tired.

Sareth took the child and handed him to a small, stocky man. “Seth, take the prince and wash him, please.” Then she turned back to attend to her queen

Ahlana’s body was covered with perspiration, her breath was ragged and irregular. Her eyes rolled up in her head.

Paron looked at Sareth pleadingly. “Help her, she is dying.”

Sareth didn’t know how the king knew this, but he had never been wrong about these things before. She took the queen’s hand from him, and once again the gentle blue healing light flowed into her body. Almost instantly, Sareth knew that it wasn’t going to work. The light turned crimson and continued to darken until it was black.

The queen’s breath stopped, her hand went limp, and the color began to leave her body. She was dead.

“Your majesty.” She said looking at Paron. “I am sorry.”

The king waved dismissively. “Go, attend to my children.”

She hurried to the washing room door. Just before she entered the adjoining room, she turned back in time to see the king, her friend and companion, fall to his knees and cry.

“Sareth, come here and see this.” Seth Silvermoon was gesturing excitedly to her.

She came over to him, still in shock over what had just happened in the other room. That was not supposed to have happened. The guardians and their spouses were supposed to be immortal. It was possible for them to die if they were killed in battle, or if they gave up the will to live, but the queen had so much to live for. Why had it happened?

What she saw when she reached the children drove the queen’s death from her mind. All three of the girls were identical to each other, save a mark located on their left breast. These were no ordinary birth marks, one was a gold dagger extending from the first child’s collarbone to her nipple. The second was a golden dragon that wound around the left side of the second child’s chest. The third was a red rose, its green stem winding around the left side of the third child’s chest. Most astonishingly were the tiny wings that extended from the boy’s back.

“What does this mean?” Seth asked her.

“I don’t know.” Sareth answered.

“We need to ask Paron.” Seth said, moving towards the door.

“No, we must leave the king to his grief.” She said. “This can wait.”

“His grief?” Seth asked, and then realization set in. “Oh!... Oh no. Not that.”

Seth was all too familiar with grief. It had been twelve years since his wife and son had been murdered, and his five year old daughter had been kidnapped.

“Yes, you are right. This can wait.” Sareth turned and picked up two of the girls, one in each arm, and rocked them gently

Shantar paused his narration briefly, and the picture faded. Before Nathan could say anything, he started speaking again, causing a new picture to form.

Paron Elloy sat in his throne room watching his three daughters and their friend Shaunna play. It had been one year, to the day, since his beloved wife had died. The castle was busy today, just as it had been that day, in preparation for the celebration of the prince and princesses’ first birth anniversary. The children had grown so much in the past year that it was almost frightening. Taren and Tarea seemed to be developing a natural skill with hand fighting, and they often used these skills on each other. Morganna had already shown some proficiency in the magical arts - accidentally catching one of her dolls on fire. Saria was the most interesting of all. She had already shown that she possessed the mystical healing light that Sareth and her son Ularen both commanded. All of his children seemed very advanced for their one year of life experience, even for Elves.

Of course there was nothing common about the children anyway. Multiple births were uncommon among the Elven kind, and never in history had more than two been born at the same time. Yet, here were three of his four children, playing with their friend while the palace and surrounding city were preparing to celebrate all four of them on this special day.

The fact that they were all born on the same day was not the most unique thing about them, however. Each of the girls had very intricate birthmarks on their chests. Taren, the prince, had wings. None of these facts were widely publicized, for the Elves were an extremely prejudiced race and were intolerant of anything that would seem like a physical imperfection.

He shook his head sadly. He had been trying to get the Elves to get over their prejudice for hundreds of years, ever since Shalarandra had been murdered while trying to protect Knoro.

His thoughts were brought up short as one of the castle guards rushed into the room.

“Your majesty,” He said breathlessly. “The dragons attack.”

He quickly jumped to his feet. “Is Silax with them?”

“Aye, she is bringing up the rear, but she is there.” The guard answered,

The prophecy that the strange gypsy had given him on the night his wife had died came back to him. “Find my personal guard, ask them to attend to me.” He gestured towards the strange blue sword that was hung on the wall. “Cyan, come to me.

The sword detached itself from the wall and flew into the kings hand.

Moments later his personal guard ran into the throne room.

“We are here, majesty.” Seth called as he transformed from the large white tiger into his smaller Dwarf form. “We are ready to follow you into battle.”

“Not this time, my friend.” Paron said. “I have another task for the four of you.”

Seth Silvermoon, Sareth Hope, Grathius Wolftracker, and Taranna Bowsmith all looked him in confusion. For thousands of years, they had fought along side Paron, and now he was telling them that he didn’t want them at his side. That he had some other task for them.

“Sareth,” Paron called “I want you to take Morganna some place safe. Use the War Bird. When you find safety, destroy it.” He grabbed a gleaming crystal staff. “I created this for her. Do not give it to her until you think she is ready.” He scooped Morganna up and handed her to Sareth.

“Griffith, I want you to take Tarea. Do as I instructed Sareth. Find safety, and destroy your War Bird.” He grabbed a set of matching crystal swords. “These are for her. Teach her to fight, and give them to her when you think she is ready.” He handed Tarea to Griffith.

“Seth, I want you to take Saria. Protect her. Teach her what you can. As with the others, find safety and then destroy your War Bird.” He grabbed another staff. “Give this to her when you think she is ready.”

“Taranna, take Taren. I do not have anything to give him, as I have not been able to finish what I started. He is in his room.” He hugged each of his girls. “Go now, all of you. Remember that the survival of my children may be paramount to the survival of the world.”

Sareth began to object, but Paron stopped her.

“I know you do not agree with me in this, but I need you to trust me.” He pointed towards the door. “Now go!”

He watched his daughters disappear out the door before turning and heading to the outer wall.

He gained the top of the wall in a matter of moments, and was appalled by the sight that met his eyes. Most of the buildings in the city were burning. There were bodies strewn through the streets. Over the city there was a red dragon, a blue dragon, and a green dragon each dishing out their own form of death on the populace of the Elven capital city. In the distance, watching her children, was the large black form of Silax, the Mother Dragon.

Paron raised his hands high in the air as he shouted at the large black dragon. “Silax, you are too late. The dagger will survive this day.”

At the sound of the kings voice, Silax began to advance on the castle.

The guards on the wall were staring at the large beast nervously. They had all grown up hearing the stories of the atrocities that had been committed by the Mother Dragon. Now that they were faced with the prospect of facing her personally, they were all very frightened.

Silax was advancing slowly, knowing that her quarry was not going any where.

Paron turned to the Elves that were on the wall with him. “You have all served me well for many years. Any of you that do not wish to stay may leave, and I will not think any less of you for it.”

Several of the Elves turned and ran from the wall, leaving their comrades. Those that did not run, gripped their weapons tighter, and waited for death herself to approach them.

As the dragon approached, Paron brandished his blue crystal sword, and a faint blue light appeared between her and the defenders.

When she got close enough, Silax issued forth a long stream of fire. The blue light protected the Elves from the main brunt of the blast, but the heat was so intense that many of those that had opted to stay with their king died in the first attack.

“You can’t have them, Silax.” Paron shouted again.

A sickly sweet voice slithered through the heads of all that were still alive. “I will get them, Elf King. After I kill you.”

She opened her maw and belched another stream of fire at the castle. Those that had survived the first attack were not so lucky the second time. When the fire subsided again, Paron stood alone.

Large shards of ice began to shoot from the blade of Paron’s sword. Most of the ice bounced harmlessly off the scaled body, but those pieces that found the wings ripped holes through the thin membranes. Blood dripped from the holes, causing small fires to erupt wherever it touched the ground.

Silax screamed in pain. She dove at Paron in an attempt to knock him off the wall, but he swung the accursed ice blade towards her. The blade glanced off of her foreleg, freezing the scales where it touched, causing them to shatter.

Tired of the usual charade with Paron and his frozen sword, Silax began to climb higher in the air. When she achieved a sufficient height, she tucked her wings against her body and dived,gathering speed as she fell. Cyan Iceblade sent barrage after barrage of ice shards flying towards her, but they glanced harmlessly off of her armored scales.

There was an earth shattering crash when she collided with the castle, completely destroying it. Boulders of stone flew hundreds of yards from the impact. The main complex of the palace imploded on itself. Paron Elloy lay broken and dead among the wreckage.

The strange Gypsy’s prediction to him on the night of his wife’s death had come to pass. “When next thou meetest the Mother Dragon to combat, thou wilt join thy wife among the cosmos.