"So no one noticed when they left?" Jia asked. The blue dragon lowered her head to look at the man she liked to refer to as her young nephew.
Jeal shook his head. "Solon didn't see a thing. Lucia said nothing either, although I don't know whether she's just being enigmatic or she really didn't notice."
The great blue rumbled a sigh and stretched her body along the ledge cropping out from one of the tower's lower levels. Crystan, the white dragon, rested further down the ledge, eyes closed and head partially tucked under a wing. Despite her feigned lack of interest, her tufted ears twitched now and again to hear snatches of the conversation.
"Solon wants to try teleporting to Lunar and going after them," Jeal said after a moment.
"The transport between here and the Star Tower has been destroyed. You said so yourself," Jia stated calmly. "Surely he must know that. There is no other way for mortals to cross the gap between worlds."
Jeal chuckled lightly. "I'm certain Kazyr would beg to differ--and Sadoul, assuming they made over there. But for the rest of Althena's creation, yes, that was the only route left to them." He smiled ruefully. "I suppose if Althena had given us a better means of traveling the stars we might have known of the Maker sooner."
Jia settled back on her haunches, pulling back her head to look at the faint glow to the west, all that remained of the setting sun. "The Maker creates," she said slowly, "and perhaps could have created all, but not all creation must follow his whim. For why then were we given free will? Althena left us with what was needed, but also left us with the power to in turn create as we wished." Jia swiveled her head back to gaze at Jeal. "She might not have left us a way to sail the stars, but she left us with the ability to discover one on ourselves."
"Althena's wisdom be praised that she did just that," Crystan mumbled, her voice muffled by her body. "Humans, beasts, and elves alike get themselves into enough trouble as it is without messing around with worlds beyond Althena's control."
"I'm inclined to agree," said Jeal, "and I've spent a good deal of time dealing with their politics."
"Got corrupted by them too." Crystan punctuated her sentence with a snort.
Jeal frowned in the white dragon's direction though he knew Crystan would not see him. "Anyway, Solon's gotten it into his head that we dragons can mount a mission to Lunar to help Sadoul and Kazyr out and get the Goddess Crest."
"Getting the Crest is the right idea," said Jia, "we would have done so eventually. But our auras are still recovering from the strain of summoning our Crests. Even with your Crest you couldn't manage to reach Lunar."
"I know." Jeal sighed loudly, folding his arms in front of his chest. "I've tried to explain that to him, but he just doesn't get it. In fact I think he's arguing with Onyx right now."
"Onyx needs his horns straightened," Crystan growled. "He can't afford to play favorites at a time like this."
"And you weren't?" Jia asked gently.
Crystan rolled over in a swift motion and swung her head up to met Jia's gaze. "All right, so I did want the Magician of Water to have my Crest, but he at least wasn't the one lying unconscious! Onyx knew we were supposed to choose among those awake, yet he couldn't force himself to relinquish his Crest to anyone other than Ghaleon. The kid needs to grow up! He's not a flying cat anymore."
"I can't blame him though," said Jeal meditatively. "Kazyr is foreign to him, Solon before he was born, and Sadoul while he was trapped here. Ghaleon though... No dragon of Lunar could not know of him. He had always been deeply impressed by stories of him."
"Pffft! Stories! Well, I suppose it'll get it out of his system," Crystan admitted reluctantly. "There's not much we can do now anyway. Either those two come back with the Crest or they don't, and that's about the end of it."
Jeal nodded in return, knowing full well that she was right.
"South of this tomb, eh?" asked Sadoul. He let loose a deep yawn as he stretched his arms above his head.
The two wizards had camped out the night in the shadow of Ghaleon's tomb, just within range of the pinpoint lights of the large city to the southwest. Sadoul had collapsed upon their arrival, and as Kazyr did not feel inclined to travel with him in such condition, they agreed to rest up for the following day. Kazyr had kept watch most of the night and only went to sleep once the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon. Now the sun hung almost directly overhead.
Kazyr nodded to Sadoul and then looked up at the sky where the Blue Star hung like a sacred gem.
"What's the matter? Trying to see Lucia's tower from here?" Sadoul chuckled good-naturedly and scratched the back of his head.
Kazyr looks back to him and smiled. "No, just admiring the view. The last time I was here I was in such a hurry to get my ship fixed that I didn't stop to admire what a beautiful sight the Blue Star makes against the backdrop of the sky. It's like an opal. You can see snatches of water and earth, and whirling above all that, the clouds, like feathers in the wind."
Sadoul grunted, pretending to be indifferent, but likewise cast a glance to the heavens and looked upon his world as might a god. He found it frightfully small, recognizing the Danek Isles as mere freckles scattered across an insignificant part of the ocean. But a feeling of reverence filled him as he realized for the first time how much had begun to depend on him. Even when he had his full power, when he had the Vay Armor... Could one man ever hope to possess so much?
Sadoul sighed. "Ready to go?"
Kazyr's response was to pull out a handkerchief and enlarge it to the size of a blanket. He spoke a word of magic and the blanket stiffened and lifted into the air.
"Now hurry on before it floats off to the heavens," said Kazyr with a smile. "Blankets can be lighter than air."
Sadoul's mouth twitched and he wondered if he'd ever get used to the white-haired mage's unorthodox spells. "All right," he grumbled as he planted himself on the rising cloth. "I hope this thing's stable enough."
"It will be," Kazyr assured him.
The handkerchief leveled off at an altitude equal to the height of a small mountain before it began its southward journey. The air this high surged brisk and chill around them, yet the cloth did not waver. Kazyr guided it with a hand whenever he felt the need for steering, but mostly he left it to its course.
Both he and Sadoul had discussed asking for directions to Pentagulia from the "lesser" citizens of Lunar, but decided against it. In addition to their strange attire, any wizard worth his or her robes would notice the magic aura oozing off of the two. The shock this worth felt from Ghaleon alone had been bad enough when it happened. Kazyr hated to imagine what the people may think to discover two warrior mages, each as strong as the former Magic Emperor--looking for Pentagulia no less, the ruined city of a dark god.
Kazyr mused that it might have been possible that Lunar had forgotten all about Ghaleon and the danger that faced it. A part of him found the thought pleasant, for the world might then heal. Yet complete severance from the past lead to ignorance. Back on his own world, that had allowed the exiled overlord to return. No one but Kazyr--well, perhaps a paltry few others as well--had remembered. When Kazyr had fallen prey to Ulgar's magic, there was no one left with the power to reseal the overlord. Only luck brought a group of heros together in time to defeat him. A single slip along the way and Kazyr's world would have been a charred dustmote in the depths of space.
He looked longing down at the simple farmsteads clustered together around a small village and marveled at how some civilizations relied so much on tradition that they remained relatively unchanged over the millennia and others pushed their technology to its limits in an unending search for bigger, better, and faster ways of doing things. Kazyr supposed his world was like Lunar, although he hadn't the faintest knowledge of what it was like now. Years no longer held any meaning to him. Generations must have passed in his travels, yet they hadn't mattered really. He hadn't a purpose except to wander anyway. Except now, that is.
"Can you sense it now?" Sadoul asked.
Kazyr sat back up and looked from side to side, probing the horizons of his magic's reach. "Yes," he said after a pause. "I wouldn't call it an evil aura, but sort of a malignancy."
"Like it protects its own?"
The white-haired mage nodded.
"My thoughts exactly," said Sadoul. "Assuming these people aren't currently up to their own mischief and there aren't any rogue gods around-"
"There's the Maker."
Sadoul scowled. "Assuming there aren't any rogue gods around, I'd say that this aura is a good place to start looking. After all, south of Ghaleon's tomb doesn't mean directly south, nor did that tell us how far south."
Kazyr agreed, and turned to face the handkerchief's bearing. A large inland sea spread both to the south and east ahead of them. The aura flickered distantly from the southwest, which was rapidly becoming the west at the rate they were flying. Kazyr gestured swiftly and the handkerchief shifted, angling itself to burn off some of its speed as it homed in on the aura's source.
Sadoul's mouth pulled into a firm line. "It's getting stronger. Strange though, some of it feels rather ancient. And other parts," --the corner of his mouth twitched in thought-- "perhaps no less ancient, but somehow new."
Kazyr didn't reply, having sensed the same thing himself. He understood what Sadoul implied, and it wasn't pleasant. With the death of the Star Dragon, the Maker had not lost his only foothold on Lunar.
"Look. There, just past that mountain ridge," said Kazyr.
The stone peaks parted before them revealing the twisted, melted remains of massive citadel. Sprawling as if to encompass the wretched land about it, the feeling of hostility oozed from its walls much as each wing spread from from its heart. The highest spire still lay blackened from the massive battle it witnessed ages ago.
"No one comes here," said Sadoul, with a cursory glance of the area. "I'm not surprised why."
"It's not the darkness though." Kazyr shook his head. "They couldn't sense it." Instead he raised a hand to encompass the parched earth below them. "The lack of life around here is reason enough."
At Kazyr's command the handkerchief lowered altitude to allow them to alight at the base of the gargantuan structure. It's duty complete, the cloth shrunk to its original size. Kazyr snatched it up from the ground and stuffed it back into his pouch. He fumbled with the pouch's other contents for a moment as he glanced up at the decaying archway before them.
He nodded to Sadoul as the latter glanced in his direction. Kazyr lifted a stout ash wood staff from the narrow opening at his belt. Pulling it free, he drew the pouch's drawstrings closed. Kazyr lifted the staff. "Toulk." The aqua globe at its crown flared, its soothing rays spreading all around the two wizards, even into the blackness of the archway.
Kazyr entered first; Sadoul just a step behind. The darkness shrank stubbornly from Kazyr's light, seeking angry refuge within the numerous crevices that lined the ceilings and walls.
Neither man spoke as they progressed. The feeling of malevolence dwindled the further they went, but neither discounted the possibility that it had merely secluded itself until a better time. Even when they could no longer sense the bitter shell around the ruins, the tension wrought from centuries of vigilance would not wear away.
Sadoul's foot kicked something as they reached a giant chamber. The magician cursed and his voice echoed back from walls and ceiling too far away to be brightened by the light of Kazyr's staff. Sadoul quieted instantly, the feeling of gravity filling him.
Kazyr lifted his staff to shine the light in Sadoul's direction. The white-haired wizard bit his lip to stifle his revulsion.
The great chamber was a graveyard. Bony corpses lay to either side of the entrance, their skeletal parts preserved by the staleness of the air around them. Not all the corpses were humanoid, but that made the sight no less horrific. Bodies lay sprawled in a haphazard fashion; some clustered together as if to ward off the cause of their deaths. Other, larger, creatures had fallen alone, with no way to tell if the smaller bodies had ever fought them.
Sadoul shook his head sadly and Kazyr offered a solemn gesture in respect for the dead. Kazyr's gaze darted about furtively, seeking something else to look at, but it was Sadoul who discovered it.
"Look," Sadoul whispered.
Weaving out of the darkness in white silken gowns, two figures swayed, whirled, and waved to the notes of an ethereal music. Simultaneously they dipped their hands low, filmy shawls trailing after each fluid gesture of the arm. They turned, long hair streaming behind them, dresses billowing in a glorious unfelt current. With a graceful twist of the wrist their shawls caught the wind and rippled, obscuring their features.
"What?" Kazyr's mouth moved, but he couldn't hear his voice. The silence was deafening; and yet, the feeling of music...
Sadoul reached for the ivory chip around his neck, eyes glazed wide open at the spectacle.
The specters glided nearer, opaque, yet unearthly; their movements unbroken even by the impedance of the air. They gazed at the men, veils of cloth flowing aside to reveal two pale faces radiant with the light of angels.
Kazyr's voice caught in his throat. "Mira."