DragonStone- Fatal Winds Read online

  DEDICATION PAGE

  To our Veterans past and present.

  Prologue, Part One.

  Near the beginning of time.

  Darkest Fire had no name, he was power and evil incarnate. Existing in the realm of evil he reigned supreme, unchallenged and worshipped by all other less creatures. He had no physical form being made of pure evil itself, a spawn of chaos. For all the power he had, to exist or influence the mortal realm it must be done through proxy. Those in the mortal realm had to consent and, once consent was accepted the proxy belonged to him until the end of time. Unknown to him the urge again to stand upon the highest peak in the realm and view with pleasure the chaos of the lesser creatures fighting one another for the chance to gain a small portion of power, was instilled by something he detested.

  A sudden presence behind him drew his full attention, he turned to face the Dragonstone. It was beyond his power, beyond the influence of chaos and although alleged to owe no loyalty it always appeared as a warning to the good and observer to his kind. “BEGONE vile thing!” Darkest Fire opened his mouth wide and expelled the most vile and greatest power of chaos to drown the Dragonstone.

  The Dragonstone simple absorbed the chaos with no effort. Darkest Fire had known it was futile however, the gesture still filled him with some sense of satisfaction. Then the white floating stone did something he never expected and to his memory had not been done since in his nearly endless existence. The Dragonstone shape waivered and expanded taking on shortly the silhouette of human form, and spoke. “The Demon Wind seeks your audience.” The voice was distinctly male and though not loud the power of the voice did something Darkest Fire did not understand, it filled him with a sense of opportunity, in his favor. “Grant him his request and you will gain untold power and influence over one of the greatest races in the mortal realm, conquer them, an avatar, and the home world of the avatar. You will achieve The Great Cataclysm.” The Dragonstone shimmered from existence leaving him with the future prediction of his success, and suspicious. The legendary stone was never known to aid those on the side of dark, and it never lied. So Darkest Fire although elated with the sense of victory also, for the first time in his nearly immortal existence, felt the taint of fear.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Half a Soul

  Demon Wind perched on top of the highest peak in his domain. He sensed the demonic winds twisting and fighting for dominance as they raced between the endless twisting pillars and mountains of dark brown rock. He alone had the privilege of assuming solid form; his body was powerful and muscular with wings twice as large as himself when unfurled. Visible rushes of smoky colored wind played about his massive body in constant motion. Wind unfurled his immense wings and launched into the air.

  Wind moved with blinding speed upon the winds of his domain, his destination a neutral place where the four brethren could meet. He longed for the day the mortal world would be again at their mercy. The Demon Wind and his brethren will summon the power of the Fatal Winds and devastate the land the ‘Protector’ had sworn to preserve.

  Wind plummeted from the sky and landed in a small, sandy area devoid of pillars or wind. Three circles of broken rocks marked each entrance for his brethren. Wind had conquered his brothers and was the reigning elemental demon. The sand within the ring to his left began to quake. Small rocks formed within it and, in moments a demon appeared. The second demon's body was the same size as Wind’s but, made of rough stone. A column of fire burst forth within the second ring and the fire coalesced into another demon. The third ring slowly filled with water that flowed upward molding itself into a forth demon. The three demons looked upon one another with disdain and hatred as they stepped from the stone rings.

  “Why summon us?” Demon Earth was the first to speak, his voice so deep it would have shaken the mortal earth around him.

  “Answer my brother; do you grow weary of your power?” Fire pointed at Wind when he spoke. “Do you feel weakness perhaps?” Fire unleashed a column of flame at Wind.

  Wind commanded the air about him to force Fire’s flame back upon him. The wind continued to swirl around Fire with a thunderous sound. Fire began to dissipate as the air whipped the flames from his body. When Fire ceased his attack the air stilled and his body of flames returned to normal.

  “My power does not weaken, but ours on the other world does.” Wind pointed at himself and at his brothers. “Since the time of the protectors our power has diminished, chaos has been replaced by balance. The time has come to return to our place of power.”

  “It is foolishness you speak of.” Demon Earth stepped closer as he spoke. “We cannot prevail over this protector, nor could we prevail against his predecessor.”

  “We can with one of their own, another protector, one who hates the life or order as we do will serve us.”

  “You cannot convince a protector to betray his kind any more than I, Demon Water, can become the wind.”

  “You are wrong my brothers.” Wind raised his right hand with his palm upward. The image of a swirling vortex appeared. He could see the fear in his brothers' faces, Wind too feared the void, no soul, no demon once sentenced returned from this place. “Look closely upon the edge of the void. They looked; a small portion of the outer edge of the void contained a small black speck. The demons sensed it struggling desperately to keep from being pulled in. The image faded. “The Dark Mistress has been defeated but, she took a piece of a soul from a protector.” Wind pointed to the void. “Even now that soul is slipping into the void. Unless we four intervene it will fade into nothingness and with it our chance to rule the mortal world again.”

  Demon Earth looked at his brethren as he spoke. “My domain will allow your passing to the Gateway of Lost souls.” Earth and Water returned to the stone circle and flowed out of the meeting place while Fire and Wind took flight.

  Demon Earth emerged from the ground. He stood near the base of the only mountain. The mountain was bordered by an endless sea of flat rocks. The essence of Water flowed from the cracks of the broken rocks and formed into a body. Moments after Water formed Wind and Fire descended to the ground. Earth looked at the mountain before the four of them. Demon Earth raised both arms and the mountain side began to crumble. It sounded like the thunderous cascade of a thousand earthquakes. The sides of the mountain exploded outward starting at the top; the ground absorbed every piece of rock that crashed upon it. In place of the mountain stood four pillars, five hundred feet apart, they were round and smooth with a flat top, each a mile high and one hundred feet in diameter. Without a word the four demons proceeded to a pillar, Earth and Water formed wings of their own. All four demons stood with their backs at a pillar bearing their elemental sign. Their wings reached round the pillars then entwined the entire length. From the tips of each pillar the demon's power leapt towards the ground and converged as one. A shape of hand formed and hovered over the center until a swirling mass of blackness formed. The whirlpool of the void spread outward, almost touching the foot of the demons. One step and the void would pull them to their fate.

  The hand of flame, earth, wind and fire plunged into the edge of the void. When the hand touched the void each demon felt its pull. They guided the hand slowly and cautiously until they found the charred soul. The hand emerged from the void with a black mist cradled within its grasp. In moments the void vanished, the hand deposited its contents on the ground. The black soul began to twist and scream as it formed a human body. The demons looked down at the small human male as he lay curled in a fetal position. It was not from fear the body lay huddled within his own grasp. It was from the unearthly cold of the void still present in his body. The wings of the demons release their grips on the pillars and resumed their normal shap
es. Demon Fire walked over to the naked form and held his hand just above. Fire slowly flowed from the demon’s hand and enveloped the body beneath. Slowly the man uncurled but, remained on his knees. His arms remained wrapped around his chest and his face cast at the rocks under his knees. The fire faded and the Demon moved his hand away from the figure on the stone. A black cloak and hood formed around the man from the dissipating flames.

  “What is it you wish masters?” The man’s voice was hoarse and weak, raspy with dryness like the desert.

  “Three tasks you must perform, only then will your body no longer decay and the power we have bestowed upon you will be yours forever.” The man thing looked at his hands, they were young and smooth, but a single spot formed in one of them, a sign of old age. “Find the descendant of Eriflen and bring him to us” The Demon Wind said. “You will know him by the mark.” A small symbol appeared on the ground before the robed figure. “Then find the protector of the evergreen world and poison the heart of his land.” Wind leaned closer to the kneeling figure before him. “Destroy the mind of the one from which you came and then his body and power shall be yours.”

  “What means do you grant me, your obedient servant, to fulfill your tasks?” His eyes remained fixed upon the ground as he spoke.

  “Do not be so quick to feign obedience.” Wind nodded to Fire. From Demon Fire’s mouth a column of fire spewed forth and engulfed the robed man but did not burn him. He writhed in agony clawing at the air and ground in desperation to crawl from the fire that burned into his soul. The fire stopped and the man lay face down and barely breathing. Demon Wind picked up the still form in his large hand as he launched himself in the air to bring the soul he had captured to the realm of the Demon Lord of Shadows.

  Before the demons pulled him from the void he knew only hatred, anger, revenge, and cold. No other thought filled his mind as the void began to draw him in to oblivion. He wanted what he felt was rightfully his. The void showed no mercy as he clung with hatred to the smallest thread of existence. In the end he knew the void would take him, but it would not do so without of fight. Without warning he was ripped from the void. Instead of a soul without form he felt hands, arms, legs and lungs. A different cold shrouded him like a blanket as he curled up only to find no warmth. His eyes, now that he had them, opened briefly, from the edge of his vision he saw four demons standing over him. He knew they had pulled him from the void and now they were making demands and promises. With spoken word he pledged his obedience, but in thought he planned their demise. As his last false word of loyalty escaped his lips the Demon of Fire shrouded him in flame that burned into the heart of his existence.

  ***

  He sat upright and realized he had been unconscious. A black robe covered his body. The hood had fallen over to hide his face. Sitting upright he found himself on a large stone slab. He found himself on a cold slab. Two shadowy figures, vaguely human shaped, stood staring at him. “Water” he demanded weakly barely able to speak. The shadow figure on his left held a gold goblet for him. He took a drink but it was not cool enough for him. In anger he pointed his hand at the shadow, his intent was to demand cooler water, but from it a black tendril leapt forth and snared the shadow. The shadow tried to fight, but the tendril of blackness wove itself into every fiber of its existence, seeing the shadow’s agony, enjoying it, the one how drank explored his power farther. The shadow would have eventually dissipated were it not for some unknown force pushing the tendril away. “Who dares thwart my will?”

  “I do” A deep voice from the dark shadowy corner of the room replied. “In my realm you wield no power I cannot counter.” A creature emerged, a demon black as night with wings emerged from the shadows. “I am the Demon of the Shadowland.” The creature stated softly but, with power in his deep voice. “My brethren have sought my minions for a task only you can perform.”

  “I serve no one.” The man in the robe spoke then saw a shadow-like arm emerged from the stone ground and grabbed his throat forcing him to gasp for air.

  “My brothers would not be so please to hear you speak of betrayal.” The hand released itself and disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Do you know what you are?”

  “I am Jyn-Taa the bodiless soul.” He responded

  “Where do you come from?” The demon asked.

  “I come from the soul of another. A piece, a shadow if you will from what I used to be.”

  “Walk with me Jyn-Taa.” The shadow demon turned and walked through a door twice as high as Jyn-Taa. The demon faded into a hall of mist after passing beyond the border of the large doorway. For a few seconds Jyn-Taa felt the world around him shift. The shadow fog was a gateway to other places in the shadow realm. The fog dissipated and Jyn-Taa found himself in a circular room. He guessed its diameter at fifty feet. The ceiling was dome shaped and about twenty feet high. In the center of the room a circular wall of stone about waist height held water. As he followed the Demon Shadow closer he realized it was not water, it moved and rippled as if in slow motion, it was as black as the Demon Shadow. “This is a gateway to the mortal world. Step into the gateway, find the Clerics of Katanz, they are scattered and powerless. They will be host for my kind, and they will do so willingly. The walkers will find the descendants and bring them all here, one of them has the power to free us, or destroy us.” Jyn-Taa smiled briefly, until he felt the solid hand of the demon around his neck. “Your thoughts are transparent Jyn-Taa." The demon said while lacing his words with the sound of warning. "My brethren know you will try to overthrow them. Your effort will be in vain, in the end you will return to the void if you persist in your hollow pursuit of your dominion over our kind.” The hand released his throat.

  “Who is Katanz?” He asked the Demon.

  “Not who but what." The demon said pausing for a moment before continuing. “Katanz was the father of all demons” The demon said. “He passed into the void eons ago but his followers still seek him.” The demon gestured to a portal made of black mist. “This portal will take you to their stronghold. Enter it and dominate them, make them receptacles for the shadow realm. Choose one to bear the essence of our messenger; he will be your link to us.” Jyn-Taa knew the real reason for the messenger; it was a watchdog to him. He also realized at that moment the Demons power must not fully transcend into the mortal world. He might have some measure of freedom to act in his own interests. Jyn-Taa stretched his hand over the black pool of water, a small whirlpool formed in the water; it then reversed itself as the smallest end of the whirlpool reached from the bottom and engulfed Jyn-Taa.

  The two clerics of Katanz dressed in blood red robes sat upon the sand and rock ground just outside the small hut of mud and leaves. The hut was just large enough for two people. Inside were two beds and a ladder in a hole in the ground leading to food supplies. One cleric spoke without looking at his comrade.

  “Why do our leaders insist upon a guard at this road, no one ever comes this far into the desert.” His voice was raspy from the dry desert air. The hut was at the edge of a path that led back to the temple. The path was blood-red pieces of stone joined together with seams of black. A day’s journey by foot led to the mountain fortress of Katanz followers.

  “Quiet you fool!” The voice was just as raspy but sounded older. “They might be watching!” The second cleric looked up at the dust filled sky; the sun would never pierce the constant sand storms sweeping this desert. “I do not question our leaders, and neither should you.” He looked at his younger comrade who was standing up and trying to shield his eyes from the sand and wind. Even with the hood pulled down over his face the sands still beat upon his skin making it appear and feel as tough as leather. “What are you looking at?” The older cleric demanded, the younger cleric pointed out into the desert.

  “Someone is coming.” He ran to the hut and returned with two staffs, each had one additional feature, a pointed blade at its tip. The older cleric was about to scold his fellow guard until he too saw a figure robed all in black walkin
g to them as if the wind and sand in no way hampered him. The figure stopped when he reached the edge of the stone path. The two clerics could see nothing from under the robed hood; his hands were folded deep within each sleeve.

  “You would do well to heed my command. Take me to your leaders so they may learn to serve me.”

  “You command no one!” The younger cleric pointed his blade tipped staff and moved to thrust it upon the robed figure. A quick motion from the figures hand sent the younger cleric flying into the wall of the hut. The cleric managed to push himself to a sitting position. The robed figure continued to look at him as he spoke from under his hood.

  “Action without question is a useful trait I seek.” The robed figure turned to the older cleric. “Hesitation is a weakness, one I cannot use or forgive.” The robed figures arms fell loosely at his side. One hand emerged from the long sleeve, the fingers spread wide and pointed at the older cleric. A black tendril leapt forth and wrapped itself around the cleric who fell to the ground screaming and writhing in agony. The younger cleric watched while the essence of his comrade was ripped from his body. The screaming stopped, the robed figure turned to the cleric he had tossed aside. “Take this body to your leaders, tell them in one day I will arrive and expect a proper reception. Tell them it is time to embrace all the power they have sought and become rulers of this world.” The younger cleric knelt before the body of his fallen comrade. The skin was a black and looked as if it had been stretched too tightly over the skeleton. He hesitated a moment before preparing to pick up the body, the robed figure spoke again. “I see a question in your mind; ask it without fear of punishment.”

  “I wish to serve you as your loyal servant, but I do not know how.” The cleric stayed on his knees facing his dead comrade; he dared not face the robed figure next to him. He did not know why but this stranger conveyed a sense of purpose, unwavering, and one which he wanted to be a part of.