The War of the Masters

Everyone at the temple looked at Lozarrik in stunned silence. He had dropped well over ninety feet, only to rise without a scratch.

His dragon circled around the temple once, then landed obediently behind his master. Nightmare was longer than any dragon Terra had seen, with a more serpentine body. His scales were as black as night. Chains hung from his shoulders, neck and tail. Both his teeth and his wings were sharpened to a point, able to cut through solid stone. Unlike T’Saunté, Nightmare acted more like a rabid dog than a noble dragon.

Lozarrik smiled coyly. He took after their father with his broad shoulders, powerfully muscled frame, and square jaw. Wearing only the finest clothing, he had always fancied himself the most worthy and deserving of the family. He didn’t dedicate himself to terrifying intimidation like Kane. Instead, he liked to play mind games, masking his malice with a mock charm.

Terra’s senses finally caught up with her. Focusing her addled mind, she projected out to their team: Whatever happens next, nobody attack, she warned. You understand me? Do not make a move!

Letting out the breath she’d been holding, Terra thought to herself, It’s our only hope of survival.

“Baby sister!” Lozarrik said, slowly walking toward her. “I can’t tell you how great it is to see you!”

Terra tried to swallow, but her throat felt like it was clogged with wet sand. Lozarrik couldn’t have come at a worse time; Cyrus looked exhausted, T’Saunté was still recovering from the Dire Wolf’s venom, and she was too drained to perform the Breath of the Masters.

“It’s good to see you, big brother,” she said nervously. This was his sick game, and as much as she hated it, she had to play along.

“Master Lozarrik,” the mysterious hooded figure said. He pushed past Cyrus and ran to his master’s side. “These intruders delayed our experiments, but you’ve come at the perfect moment. Now, let’s finish these insects.”

Lozarrik looked at him with a single raised eyebrow. Then he turned and gave a slight nod to his dragon. “You heard him, Nightmare. Finish this insect.”

Without warning, Lozarrik’s dragon pounced, taking hold of the hooded man in his massive jaws and swallowing him whole before he could even utter a scream. The movement was so fast Terra could barely believe her eyes.

A tense silence fell over the courtyard. Lozarrik turned back to Terra, his smile returning. A chill swept down her spine.

T’Saunté swooped down and landed behind Terra, wrapping his wings protectively around her like a shield. The dragon let out a low growl at her eldest brother.

Lozarrik looked up at T’Saunté, his insidious smirk broadening, as though amused by the dragon’s antics.

Don’t do it, T’Saunté, Terra projected. If a fight breaks out we’d never survive . . . not yet.

Reluctantly, T’Saunté relaxed his powerful muscles and pulled her in closer with his wings.

“So I see that you have a merry band of misfits,” Lozarrik said. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked slowly around the courtyard, weaving between people. He looked curiously at each one, as if sizing them up.

Stopping in front of Keira, he said, “Oh, my. An elf. I see you’ve sought only the strongest creatures for your army.”

“They’re not ‘creatures’, they’re my friends,” Terra corrected.

Lozarrik chuckled. “Ah, yes. Ever the warmhearted, aren’t you?” He looked up at the roof. Holding a drawn bow, Raiden had a look of determination in his eyes.

“A member of the Tanis clan as well.” Lozarrik shook his head as though Raiden was embarrassing himself. “Put away the toy.”

Terra watched as her brother’s stroll brought him to Cyrus.

“Last but not least, you have a peasant with a cracked sword.” Lozarrik reached for the black claymore at his side, causing Cyrus to flinch. T’Saunté unfolded his wings and took a quick step toward Lozarrik.

The Prince smirked, only patting the hilt of his sword. “Kind of jumpy, aren’t we?”

Cyrus stood his ground.

Turning, Lozarrik walked toward Terra. “So, I bet you’re wondering why your dear eldest brother is here.”

Terra shifted uncomfortably. “I am, actually.”

“I came to retrieve what’s mine.” He paused and motioned at Dameon. With a smirk, the Fire General scurried over and climbed onto the dragon’s shoulders. “My scientist failed me one too many times. Fortunately, Dameon learned everything he needed to.” He resumed his stroll toward her.

“I see,” Terra said, fear wracking her body more acutely with each step he took.

Lozarrik stopped in front of her. Then, slowly, he walked behind her. Cyrus and T’Saunté both moved like they were about to spring into action.

Stop! Terra projected. He’s far stronger than Kane. Our only hope is that he’ll let us live.

Terra felt a wave of discontent from them both, but they remained still.

Lozarrik paused behind her and leaned in so he was inches away from her ear. “Now I bet you’re wondering why I haven’t killed you yet.”

Terra kept her eyes forward, trying to calm her pounding heart. “It crossed my mind.”

“I heard you stood up to father.” He paced around her and stopped to look her in the eye. “Of course, it was for some sort of bleeding heart cause, but nevertheless, you disobeyed a direct order from him.” A sinister smile played at the corner of his lips. “I like that.”

“I’m glad I have your approval.”

“No you’re not. But nevertheless, you’ve got the guts to stand up to him. You and your band of rabble might prove useful someday.” He paused and looked T’Saunté in the eye. “Despite how pitiful they are.”

T’Saunté lurched forward and let out a thunderous roar unlike any Terra had ever heard from him before. Less than a foot from Lozarrik’s face, T’Saunté was issuing a warning. But her brother stood indifferent, not even flinching. A slow smirk crossed his face. He leaned forward and whispered:

“I dare you.”

T’Saunté, calm down, Terra told the dragon telepathically. Don’t let him goad you into this!

She could feel T’Saunté’s rage, and it was all she could do to help him rein it in. The roar trailed off, and T’Saunté leaned back.

“Honestly, Terra,” Lozarrik said, brushing off the saliva that had speckled his coat, “get control of your slaves.”

Terra clenched her teeth. “I told you, they’re not my sla—”

“Whatever,” Lozarrik muttered. Turning around, he climbed onto his dragon’s shoulders. “Take care, baby sister. I’ll see you again . . . soon.”

Nightmare spread his jagged black wings, carving a deep furrow through the pillar to his left, then flew across the sky.

Once Lozarrik disappeared completely, Terra let out a deep breath, her entire body quaking with fear.

After Lozarrik and Dameon left, Ra’Nu had relinquished her hold on her father. Cyrus and Terra had offered to stay with her as she talked to the Sheckem, but she had politely refused, assuring them she would be fine.

As Cyrus walked out of the valley, he couldn’t stop thinking about Lozarrik’s intervention. He had met Terra’s two oldest brothers now, meaning there were still three more brothers and two sisters out there, plotting her demise. Cyrus and Terra had gotten lucky so far, but he knew sooner or later, luck runs out.

Raiden trotted up beside him, with the rest of their friends a little ways behind.

“So what do you think?” Raiden asked.

“Dameon got away, but at least he’s out of the Avenoxi village. I think it was a victory . . . a solemn victory, but a victory nonetheless,” Cyrus answered.

Raiden grinned. “I say, mission accomplished.”

“True. But Dameon is still out there.”

Raiden smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him. It’s only a matter of time.”

“You’re right,” Cyrus agreed, “but only if we get stronger. We need to be able to stand up to Lozarrik and the others, or they’ll kill us all.”

“Agreed, buddy. What do you say we start training in the evenings after we set up camp?”

Cyrus smiled. “I like it. I know we’re just trying to survive right now, but it’s weird. I want to stop Lozarrik, Xyloth, and the others—even if they weren’t trying to kill us.”

“What’s the saying? Evil triumphs when good men do nothing.”

Cyrus gave him a high five and smiled. “I’m glad you’re with us, Raiden. Even if we don’t always have a clear destination.”

Raiden grinned. “Hey, it’s about the journey, not the destination!”

Cyrus shook his head in disbelief. “Wow, I say that exact same thing! It seems we have a lot in common.”

“Yeah, except for the part about how my country wants to take over your country.”

“Well, there’s that.” Cyrus shrugged. “But I won’t hold it against you.”

The two shared a laugh as they approached the cave leading to the outside world. Suddenly Cyrus heard Terra’s name being called from behind. Turning around, the group paused to see Ra’Nu jogging after them. Cyrus noticed she had a sword sheathed at her hip and a quarterstaff strapped to her back.

“Ra’Nu, what are you doing here?” Terra asked.

Ra’Nu stopped to catch her breath. “My father had mercy on me.”

“That’s great!” Terra exclaimed.

“Yes. Instead of execution, he exiled me from the tribe for ten years.”

Cyrus’s jaw went slack and a heavy silence hung in the air. Finally, Cyrus spoke.

“Ra’Nu, I’m so sorry. I . . . didn’t think this would happen.”

“It’s okay,” Ra’Nu said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I don’t regret my decision. We saved my village and stopped an evil man. Even if my father isn’t proud of me, I can be proud of myself.”

Cyrus nodded solemnly. “Your father looked for strength in his warriors, not realizing the strongest member of the tribe was his own daughter.”

“Thank you,” Ra’Nu said sheepishly. “Someday I will return to my people, but until then, I was wondering if . . . well, if I could travel with all of you . . . my friends.”

“We’d love to have you!” Terra said excitedly. She walked to Ra’Nu and embraced her in a hug.

Lucky whistled. “Hello, beautiful! I’m glad to have you on the team!”

Ra’Nu hiked up an eyebrow. “I’m sorry—who are you?”

Lucky put his hands on his hips. “Why, I’m Lucky the Leprechaun! Loved by many, mostly by women!”

Ra’Nu scratched her head. “Um, yes.”

“Don’t mind him,” Raiden said with a grin. “He just likes his catchphrases. I’m Raiden, by the way. Glad to have you along.”

“A pleasure,” Madrina agreed. “I’m Cyrus’s mother, and this is my husband, Kendal.”

Terra rubbed the back of her dragon’s neck. “And this, here, is T’Saunté.”

“It’s wonderful to meet all of you,” Ra’Nu replied. “Thank you for letting me come along.”

Terra smiled. “You’re welcome as long as you’d like.”

“I appreciate your generosity,” Ra’Nu said. Then she turned to Cyrus and unsheathed her sword. The handle was made of solid ivory, and majestic runes were carved into the slender, single-edged blade.

“I want you to have this.”

Cyrus couldn’t hide his surprise. “But why?”

“You returned one of our most sacred objects, you helped keep the village safe, and the sword you have now is cracked and rusted. This is the least I can do for all your trouble.”

“I . . .” Cyrus swallowed.

“I think what my son is trying to say is ‘thank you’,” Kendal said, smiling.

Cyrus felt his face turning red. “Yes, thank you, Ra’Nu. I really don’t know what else to say.”

“Have you ever translated the runes?” Keira asked.

Ra’Nu nodded. “It means, ‘Savior’s Blade’.”

“Well, that sword should be for me, then!” Lucky said boisterously.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there, Lucky!” Raiden said, encouraging the pint-sized man.

Kendal smiled and shook his head. “Are you kidding me? That sword’s ten times your size, Lucky.”

“Oh, right.”

Cyrus looked around at the people with him—his friends . . . his family. “So, where do we go next?”

“To find a group of Leprechaun women, of course!” Lucky shouted.

Everyone laughed except for Lucky, who evidently was quite serious.

“Sorry, Lucky, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. We need to find a base we can work from,” Cyrus said.

“I have a place we could go,” Terra chimed in. “Once a child of the royal Candorian family reaches adulthood, they are given a castle in the Unknown Regions for the war. Since the youngest child is at a disadvantage to start out, they are given the most defensible location—a castle on a small island situated at the northern most tip of the Unknown Regions. It is called the Castle of a Thousand Blades.”

“Wow—our own castle,” Keira murmured. “Okay, I’m definitely sticking around a little longer!”

Cyrus grinned.

“No kidding,” Lucky said from Raiden’s shirt pocket. “I can see it now—Lucky the Legendary Leprechaun hailing from the Castle of a Thousand Blades . . . The girls are gonna love it!”

“Wait, how are we going to get there?” Madrina asked. “That’s a completely different continent across the seas.”

“That’s a good point,” Cyrus said. “T’Saunté can’t carry us all, even if he was at full strength.”

“Leave that to me,” Raiden said, eyes twinkling. “I already have something in the works.”