Series: Lake of Dragons Series #5
By: E. Michael Mettille
Publication Date: April 1, 2024
Publisher: TMR Books
Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Meanwhile, Hagen has remembered his old form and taken it upon himself to root out and destroy any stragglers of the great war who may remain hiding among the woods and dark places surrounding Havenstahl. At the same time, he is using his remembered power to rebuild and restore the hills, valleys, forests, and rolling meadows surrounding the city back to their former glory.
Events are less sunny beyond the borders of Havenstahl. Maelich’s mind has returned from his psychic crack, and he must reckon with all he has done and left undone. Nearly everyone he’s ever loved has died, and it was all his fault. Cialia agrees. Now that her brother is awake, everyone is aware of everything he knows. The forgotten one is remembered by all, another god for Cialia to kill. Maelich seeks to protect Raya from his sister’s vengeance and prevent her from making the same mistakes as him.
While two Dragons battle for the life of a god, the greatest and most dangerous power Ouloos has ever known grows ever stronger at the edge of chaos. Geillan gleaned much from his mother during the brief moment he embraced her while burning her to ash with Dragon’s Flame. Her world is a vile and wicked place filled with treachery, fear, violence, and hate. A reckoning is coming for Ouloos. Will she survive when Coeptus awakes?
The forest was cooler than usual. A dampness hung in the air and clung to Hagen’s cheeks as he carefully made his way across a trail grown over with vines and interrupted by twisting and gnarled roots jutting from the soft earth. The trees, ancient and mighty sentinels standing tall against time, stretched into a cloudless sky and reached for one another with their girthy and bent branches to block out any sunlight which might prove bold enough to reach down toward the moss and vines on the forest floor. Hagen loved all forests, but this one held a special place in his heart. The trees of this wood were cunning and wise. They had neither the time nor the patience to suffer fools or mischief-makers. He could tell they recognized him after a few steps in. The change in their demeanor was nearly imperceptible, but he noticed. The path grew wider. Vines slipped away from it, slithering back into the darkness while thick roots sunk into the soft earth. They found his company as pleasing as he found theirs.
It seemed odd at first, the scrutiny. The trees of the Sobbing Forest had always been very particular about which guests they would allow to visit, but he knew they enjoyed his company and their chats. Of course, the trees didn’t speak. Instead, they hummed out melodies. Some folks only heard sobbing as ominous as it was troubling, but folks with a mind for knowing could pull meaning from those melodies. Hagen had a mind for knowing, and he could tell right away they hadn’t recognized him when he stepped into the darkness of their keep. He couldn’t blame them. The last time he’d strolled among the timeless creatures he had appeared a bent old man. The vibrant youth he’d become since Antopy reminded him who he was, was anything but that. At least seventy summers must have passed since the last time they would have seen him looking so young.
“I’ve missed you, old friends,” he smiled up at the canopy with the truest joy he’d felt in far too long.
They hummed a happy response back. They had missed him too.
He’d been born there among them. Of course, he couldn’t remember being born, but his mother told him the stories of how the trees helped her cope with the pain. Father wouldn’t help. He was a good man, wise, but he believed in allowing things to happen as they will and refused to intervene. The trees helped in his stead. They hummed her soft melodies and lowered balmy branches thick with soft leaves for her to rest upon between contractions. They even bubbled fresh water out of the soft ground for her to drink and cool her forehead. She loved the trees and told him that story over and over again.
They hadn’t stayed long after he’d been born and, though he had returned frequently over the many summers which had passed since then, the visits were always too brief. Breathing the fresh forest air, he felt he could stay among them for the rest of his days. The trees vibrated happily at the thought, but it could never be. He had too much to do. A new king perched on the throne of the greatest city of men, and that man needed his help. On top of that, Mother and Father had instilled a restlessness in him. He hated it. Most times he could ignore the call, but something always got him. It wouldn’t be long before he’d have to hit the trail again. A great power lay dormant, sleeping in a tower at the edge of time and understanding. At some point, it would wake. Once Ymarhon had wrangled enough control over his subjects in Havenstahl, Hagen would need to investigate that great power.
Hagen’s smile faltered as he got back to the business at hand, “I wish the goal of my visit was to share stories and reminisce. Alas, I am on a mission to find wickedness hiding amongst your glorious shadows.”
Confusion swept through the trees as the canopy rustled with discontent. The trees liked to believe they knew vastly more than the dense and stiff things occupying other forests. They were correct. As far as Hagen knew, the mighty trees of the Sobbing Forest were the only trees in any forest who knew anything about anything. He also knew they could only know what they could know, and that was only what the birds flittering about their branches or the furry critters scurrying about their trunks would tell them. News traveling in that fashion was rarely news any longer by the time it reached their leaves.
“Forgive me,” Hagen proceeded cautiously, careful not to bruise the collective ego of his old friends, “but beasts have sailed across the Great Sea to lay waste to these lands.”
Of course, the trees knew all about the giants from across the Great Sea and the other monsters they brought with them. That wasn’t news at all. Havenstahl had stood tall against that invading force.
Hagen’s smile widened, “You are quite wise and quite right, as always. Most of those monsters have been destroyed or turned away, but not all of them. I have been hunting one of them who has been causing much trouble for men who fall under the protection of Havenstahl. Laenkishot Kil hides among your shadows, and he is the vilest of creatures.”
The trees knew he was there. He hadn’t caused them any trouble. They were skeptical of him at first, but he looked at them with awe and reverence. How could any creature that saw them as the glorious things they were be anything but pure?
“I mean no disrespect,” Hagen pressed on as delicately as he could, “but the lands from which he hails are cracked and barren. Not to mention, the trees from Biggon’s Bay to Mount Elzkahon aren’t near so magnificent as the glorious host surrounding me here. Nor do they sing such mesmerizing songs. Of course, he admires you for the exquisite works of nature’s art you are, but he is wicked. The five vicious trogmortem who follow him are the same, vile monsters with no love for anything.”
The trees weren’t convinced. They were probably no more dubious than any other moment, but they were dubious, nonetheless. They challenged his accusations. What had these peaceful creatures done to earn his ire?
“They have been raiding villages all around these lands,” he frowned. “They hide among you, because the men of Havenstahl—even the fiercest among their ranks—are terrified of your wisdom and strength. They hear all these horrifying stories of the trees ripping men to shreds or suffocating them until their hearts cease to beat. They would never venture into the darkness of this place.”
Their moaning increased in volume until it was almost a wail, the kind of shrill sound a starving baby might make.
“I know,” Hagen huffed in mock shock. “How could anyone think such things? But you know men are strange. They fear things they do not understand. Sometimes, they fail to see beauty where it clearly exists, and thus, they fear you.”
The blaring cry dulled again to a low moaning. It was almost a murmur, really. Hagen hated pointing out that they’d been duped by such dull creatures. The trees of the Sobbing Forest saw most other sentient life as beneath them, at least in intellect. The idea they could fall victim to something as base as flattery was difficult to admit.
Hagen allowed a mellow smile to rest between his cheeks as he held out his hands, “You cannot blame yourselves. I haven’t met this giant, Laenkishot Kil, but I have searched his thoughts. He thinks very highly of himself, and he has an odd charisma about him. It is very disarming. Had I not the benefit of creeping around his mind and analyzing his intent, I would find him as pleasant and endearing as you. We can’t worry about that. I bid you please take me to him, and I will rid of you of his vile presence in your sacred lands.”
The trees parted toward the east bringing a wide smile to Hagen’s face. The smile dimmed quickly. They weren’t quite threats dancing among the rhythms of the humming vibrating off the trees but close kin. The wise and ancient creatures had sensed the change in him. Bolts of lightning blasting about the woods could cause quite a bit of hurt for a forest regardless of how wise its trees might happen to be.
“I would never think to unleash something so reckless while in your midst,” Hagen smiled up at the canopy. “No harm will come to this glorious place.”
The trees remained skeptical but made no move to hinder his progress. Despite the wide path they made for him, it was clear they refused to entertain any destructive forces unleashed beneath their leaves.
The path Hagen followed shifted slightly south. He could tell he was getting close. The trees’ humming steadily grew as if a warning to alert him of his proximity to his adversaries. By the time he could see the faintest outline of shapes through the thick trees off to his right, the humming could have been the chime of a loud bell but sustained at the same volume and pitch as the moment it had been struck.
He sidled up to a massive oak and listened. The trees recognized his need for stealth and reduced the volume of their song.
It was difficult to see much through the thick trunks and brush growing around them, but Laenkishot Kil appeared to pace back and forth before five shapes that were seated in a semi-circle around a small but crackling fire.
“You threaten me against using lightning, but these invaders can enjoy a blaze?” he shook his head slightly as he glanced up toward the canopy and smirked.
The trees hummed out their answer. Laenkishot Kil and his group only burned what the trees allowed. Creatures like giants and trogmortem need the heat of fire to stay warm, and the trees had nothing to fear from them.
“So, you say,” Hagen smiled wide. “Now, please let me listen to what they are saying. I need to know if they intend to depart for their homes or continue terrorizing the lands around this place.”
“The army at Havenstahl has seen its ranks replenished,” Kil complained to his companions as he paced about.
A trogmortem Hagen couldn’t see clearly replied, “All the great cities of men answered the call from what I hear.”
“There are no great cities of men,” one of the others quipped.
“On that you are correct,” Kil agreed. “However, those armies together represent a force far too great for us to battle against.”
“Why battle at all?” one of the other trogmortem asked. “I am comfortable in this forest, and the men of Havenstahl seem to fear this place. We get all we need from the surrounding villages. We can remain safe here as long as we like.”
Hagen had slowly been working his way closer to the clearing as he listened. By the time the last words left Gorban Khan’s lips, Hagen had slipped around the tree he’d been hiding behind and into the flickering firelight. He recognized all the trogmortem in the clearing but one. Groban Khan was probably the most gruesome of the bunch. Not because he was more vile or vicious than his kin. He had survived a battalion of dwarves during the battle of Fort Maomnosett. They had left him for dead with his nose split down the middle and deep gashes crisscrossing his massive face. Hanol Jo, Bancle Hig, and Lonac Yan were the other three he recognized. There was nothing particularly striking or unique about them, aside from Bancle Hig’s size. At seventeen feet tall, he counted himself among the tallest of trogmortem. The last one was a mystery to Hagen.
After gauging the level of shock on the six faces looking back at him, the wizard looked toward the one unfamiliar face and said, “I know all the souls occupying this clearing with me except for you. How is it I do not know your face?”
“He claimed he was guarding the ships during every battle, but I think he was afraid,” Hanol Jo chuckled. “Only came to shore when the bay got all angry and frothy. He jumped right into the drink and swam for shore when the first wave splashed against his ship.”
“Shut up, fool,” Laenkishot Kil growled at Hanol Jo before crouching closer to Hagen and sneering, “You are a bit far from home and obviously a fool to stand so close. I will grant you leave to depart this place if you do it quickly and never return.”
The giant’s breath was foul like rotten meat. He had been eating men. There were probably bits of villagers’ flesh stuck between his teeth. Hagen winced slightly before replying, “I will grant you the same, Laenkishot Kil, mightiest of giants. Leave this place, and no harm will come to you. Stay, and there will be no place in these lands where you will be safe.”
Lonac Yan lost himself in a fit of laughter that lasted long enough for Kil to snatch him up by the throat and pin him against a tree. Kil looked back at Hagen as Lonac’s eyes bulged from their sockets. After a few moments of listening to the trogmortem struggle for air, he said, “Today is the day you die. I would like to know your name before I end your time in this world.”
“Of course,” Hagen smiled at the threat while removing his hood, “I am Hagen of Havenstahl, and I will be the one who sends the lot of you to the Lake if you fail to heed my warning.”
The giant’s eyebrows dipped toward his nose as he released his grip on Lonac’s throat, cocked his head to the side, and said, “I have heard of a healer who goes by that name, but he was a very old man. That is not the creature standing before me.”
“One and the same,” Hagen’s smile widened as he spread his arms out to his sides.
“Hmmm…I won’t pretend to know if you’re up to some trick or if you truly believe yourself to be that famous old healer, but I’ll eat you just the same,” Kil shrugged, “And, since I’m feeling generous of late after enjoying the bounty of your lands, I will grant you some knowledge before I swallow you down. We could not leave if we wanted to. Our ships were destroyed by a violent storm. Three escaped the bay. Ours was one of them, but she was in no condition to make the long journey across the Great Sea. We beached her farther down the coast and found our way here. This is our home now.”
“Wait,” Hagen raised an index finger as Kil took a step toward him, “What if I told you I could give you a ship stocked with all the supplies you would need to make that journey if you agreed to leave in peace?”
Laenkishot Kil laughed. It was a horrible sound, something like metal grinding against stone. After a few moments, the rest of the group joined in. They all laughed at Hagen as his smile faded in favor of a shallow frown.
“I would prefer not to hurt you,” the wizard finally sighed, “but I fear your laughter is the only answer you will grant me on this day.”
Kil’s laughter ceased as quickly as it had begun. He leapt over the fire toward Hagen with his mouth wide and menace in his eyes.
The slightest hint of fear coiled around Hagen’s spine as the monster’s massive face lunged toward him howling a breeze of that rotten breath in his face. He had promised not to attack. Perhaps the trees felt more affection for this pack of beasts than they’d let on. There could be no clean way out of the situation. He hadn’t the might to battle the monsters with his fists, and any spell he might conjure would enrage the trees. A battle with those old sentinels was one he wasn’t sure he could win even with magic.
The giant’s fingers were inches from his face when Hagen decided to try his luck with the trees. He couldn’t just let the monster eat him after all. Perhaps the forest would understand.
The words Hagen would use to focus his intention on the spell that would cause the ground to erupt in a massive mound and launch the giant high into the canopy died at the back of his throat before they could be born into the world. He couldn’t tell if it was a vine or a branch. It happened too quickly to identify the weapon, but it fired out from deep in the trees. Then it wound itself around Kil’s neck and squeezed while yanking him back into the fire.
The giant screamed as the fire caught hold of his boots and flames licked up at his trousers. A vine whipped out and wrapped itself around his neck from the other direction. More vines came. They snapped out from the darkness faster than an eye could track them, each latching onto one of the giant’s limbs.
Hagen almost felt pity for the giant as the vile thing struggled to get air while the fire finally caught a firm hold of his trousers and flames began licking up toward his shirt. The poor creature’s face was red with effort as a soundless scream poured forth from his wide-open mouth.
The sound the trees made when they yanked the monster apart wasn’t any kind of humming. It was a guttural howl dripping with malice and revenge.
Hagen covered his face as Laenkishot’s insides spattered the entire clearing. He and the five trogmortem were covered in meat and guts and blood as the vines raced back into the darkness carrying the giant’s limbs with them.
“I am sorry,” one trogmortem cried out as more vines came. He had barely gotten the words out before a vine was wrapped so tightly around his neck no more sound could leave him. It was only a few moments more before he and his kin were splattered all over the clearing just as their leader had been.
There was no joy hiding in the shock twisting up Hagen’s expression. Of course, the vile creatures deserved their fate. He would have given them a similar end. The blood didn’t bother him. It was more the violence unleashed by the trees. He had always seen them as somewhat peaceful. The mess soaking the clearing up to his ankles was anything but that. The smallest hint of fear returned. It whispered a warning from the back of Hagen’s mind.
The trees were sorry to have scared him. There was a stark almost childish honesty to the feelings oozing about their gentle humming. It was reassuring, but Hagen still failed to completely forget that tiny breath of fear. Even still, that fear seemed small next to the aching in his heart. A single tear perched on his eyelid.
“I am sorry for what you had to do,” he smiled despite the tear, “I wished not for that end.”
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