"It wasn't until a young knight fell in love with a dragon rider that he had captured that either side could envision a peaceful resolution. It was the birth of their son that truly began to open the eyes of the council and the Dragon King. By this point it had become clear that Sortiledge would conquer the Nefarious Lands, and many of the dragons and their riders had grown weary of war. Slowly, they began to migrate north or join us.
"When Malcommer took over in the Nefarious Lands, all but the most extreme dragons were horrified at the bloodshed he caused. It was not long before every dragon and his rider joined Sortiledge. Unfortunately, the dragons never seemed to pick the winning side. Almost as soon as the first proclamation of peace was made between their kind and ours, they had to be immediately relocated to Sortiledge, as Malcommer slew any that would not join him.
"You know how the Great Wars ended. When they did, the dragons were so few, and they could never feel at home amongst the people who had tried so desperately to kill them. So, when the council was rebuilt after the wars, their first order was to make the Dragonback Range hospitable to the dragons. I was the warlock heading the effort.
"Before we left, one thing we tried to change was the way the dragons appointed their leaders, or as the dragons called them, alphas. Traditionally, alphas were chosen by combat. The potential dragons and their riders would fight, often to the death, and the strongest would become an unrivaled ruler. As harsh as these methods were, they were effective in times of war. But by the time we had rebuilt their home, we hoped to find a more peaceful way to find a governing body for the dragons. We tried to establish a council, but as the dragons correctly predicted, a government with several leaders will soon become a power struggle. In the end, we elected a young man with huge potential and named him alpha, and didn't leave until his foothold was firmly established. We were hoping that he would be able to find a better system by the time the next alpha had to be chosen.
"A few months before the attack on the Fort, we lost contact with him. After some investigation, I found that he had died of completely natural causes, and the dragons had gone back to their old methods of choosing an alpha. The rider who triumphed in combat was a man named Rickentoh. He rides a Black Thunder who shares his name, as is not uncommon in the dragon world.
"Rickentoh is more than a great fighter, he is also a great leader. He has furthered the dragon kingdom to stretch across all of the Dragonback range, and even began to fight his way into the Nefarious Lands. Unfortunately, he is very young and too ambitious to hold so much power. Somehow, Malcommer has convinced him that-"
"Wait," Aidan said, his head spinning from all of this new information. "Malcommer is alive? I was taught that he was killed in the Great Wars"
Bartemus nodded. "We all were. But sometimes what we hope for replaces what we truly see. Malcommer is far from dead. The Rangers on the border have continued to write letters, but when I searched for their outposts I found nothing but skeletons. Somehow Malcommer has fooled us all into believing the Nefarious Lands are dormant, when in truth they are more active than they have ever been. There is only one obstacle between him and us. The Dragonback range.
"I don't think Malcommer ever meant for the dragons to be successful in their conquest. After all, they played a key element in his first defeat. Instead, I think that his hopes are for the dragons to destroy themselves and at the same time kill as many dwelling in Sortiledge as possible, after which he will invade our lands himself. And Rickentoh has unwittingly fallen into his trap.
"While I was gone, I managed to find a young rider who agreed to spy on his kin, given that he would remain anonymous. He has confirmed that Rickentoh and the dragons are attacking Sortiledge in three days time, starting with Gurvinite."
It took a moment for Aidan to fully realize what Bartemus had said.
"But … where is the army?" Aidan asked, his pulse starting to rise.
"The dwarves are the only race with a standing army, and it will take them far too long to mobilize, though I have sent word. The Rangers are too few in number and otherwise occupied preparing for Malcommer, as are the amoghs. The other sorcerers have been alerted, but they are for the most part untrained in the art of battle, and too far away to be relied upon."
"Then who is left?" Aidan said, the adrenaline slowly picking up speed.
Bartemus said nothing, but looked at the ground.
Suddenly, Aidan realized what the warlock had been hinting. "Us. We're the only ones."
His master nodded slowly. For a moment, neither said a word as the elder let the younger understand the gravity of their situation.
"That's why you told me to come here, isn't it?" Aidan asked. "You want us to fight an army."
Bartemus sighed. "It's not quite an army. I doubt more than two hundred dragons will be in fighting condition."
Aidan felt surprisingly calm. "So they only outnumber us a hundred to one."
Again, grim silence enveloped the island for a few moments.
"But why," the boy said. "There isn't anything I can do."
"There is always something you can do," Bartemus said. "Aidan, I once told you that you that you had no choice, that it was your duty to protect Sortiledge, but what I am about to propose to you is more suicide than a true battle plan. If you choose to leave now, I will not blame you or try to stop you."
For a moment, Aidan considered it. He could go home, forgive his mother, and fly the griffin across the ocean to the south of Sortiledge, and eventually make their home in the mysterious lands there.
But what about everyone else? Aidan thought. Timothy, Eleanor, his master, they would all fight or die trying. And Aaliyah. For some reason, the thought of losing her hurt the most.
"I'm staying," Aidan said, his hand unconsciously slipping to the button on his staff.
Bartemus smiled. "I knew you would. Go make yourself at home inside the cabin. You have a lot to learn."
Aaliyah sat up suddenly, her lungs expanding to full capacity.
"Hello, amogh," a voice said.
The girl instinctively reached for her knife before her eyes were even open. She was greeted by a smiling female elf. "I'm glad you are awake, child. Your griffin is waiting outside. The Firebird needs you."
Bartemus and Aidan sat on top of the hill on the isle, the older with a young seabird cupped in his hand. Its wing was broken from falling out of the tree where it had been born.
"The spell I am about to teach you is normally not taught to sorcerers until they are wizards, if at all. However, you may have need of it in the coming battle. Open your hand. The word is nergaldok."
Aidan smiled. He assumed that it was a complicated healing spell, something he desperately wanted to learn. Timothy would be jealous.
The word felt strange, almost unsettling, as he uttered it, and a small white light appeared in his palm.
"Crush the light," his master said.
Aidan's forehead creased. Something felt wrong, dark.
"Quickly, Aidan. All at once." the boy obediently smashed his hand into a fist.
Suddenly, his vision disappeared, replaced by strange, new sight, with colors that couldn't exist. He saw himself hatching from an egg, eating every day as his mother brought him the remnants of her chewed up food. He saw his wings grow feathers, strong, magnificent feathers. He felt himself leap from the nest for the first time, only to be struck from the sky by a blast of strange power. He watched as a human chick stole his life source from him and crushed it. Then he felt his small, fragile heart stop.
Aidan's consciousness snapped back to his own body, which began to gasp for air.
"What was that?" Aidan asked as he stood, his staff forgotten on the ground.
Bartemus raised the bird, or its body, for Aidan to see. The mage reached out a shaky hand to gently stroke its still feathers.
"Why would you make me do that?" Aidan asked, a tear forming in the edge of his eye.
"So that you could understand the power you wield. It's called the death curse, and it is the second piece of black magic you have learned, the first being the morka spell. Black magic is different from most, as it always takes something from the user. At first, this spell will only take your happiness, but eventually it will take your morality. Malcommer has used this spell hundreds of times, and has almost no sense of compassion left in him."