Awareness
Count Arathudria Dra’Kulus, who would now call himself, Drahkuhl, stepped upon stones still warm from the recent setting of the sun. Heat did not harm him, however. Only the Light.
His eyes marked out the landscape. Memories returned. The shape of miles of farmland surrounding the high hillside where he stood, told him this place was once the Kingdom of Horse Hill.
His mind retraced the ruins where great towers had once stood as lookouts along the rolling meadows. His eyes could even mark out where ancient cities had once littered this landscape. Now they were only phantom memories and crumbling stone.
Moving down the shale covered hillside, he eventually stepped onto fresh green pasture. Moving as a shadow wraith, black as pitch, he transformed his body into that of a stalking black wolf. The wolf sniffed the air, catching the scent of a nearby mortal.
A sheepherder, sleeping under a tree with the flock nearby. The sheep would provide what he needed. Enough blood to see his journey through the night to another cave or dwelling.
Yet it had been long since Drahkuhl had tasted human blood, and it was this rich delicacy that truly aided his powers. His body was still quite weak, even after feasting on so many rodents. He would take the shepherd as his first human kill. The old man’s blood was sweet. Fresh. Juicy. He woke in terror at the first bite, a hollow wail passed his lips as Drahkuhl savoured the thick layers of hot blood. Dripping from his chin as he gorged on the victim, covering the shepherd’s mouth with a large black paw. Drahkuhl’s body morphed from that of a shadow, to a great bat-winged demon, and then back to the wolf, several times as he drained his victim dry. He drank until he heard the last beat of the shepherd’s heart. Then drank some more.
He could’ve spared the man enough blood to be his first servant, though the need for his rich blood, and that delicious taste, overpowered his need with pure greed.
The wolf passed behind Horse Hill. Later, emerging as a man with a bent-backed posture, wielding a wooden shepherd’s crook. He wore only black. Dark as shadows. A conical black wide brimmed hat kept his face hidden. A shaggy black beard curled across his face and chest, tinged with white. He had the look of a Magician. Though he had not been seen in this land for many an age.
Drahkuhl searched out into the world with his thought. Searched for any remnant of ancient power that may aid him in his quest to dominate these forsaken people. His thought flickered across lands and over sea, sending him visions, sounds, tastes and feelings. He found three great sources of magic. They were linked to his awakening, in a way. A wolf, dragon, and phoenix. He would harness the might of these spirit wardens as fuel for his ascent to rule. All were protected by magic. The young boy protecting the baby dragon seemed the perfect place to strike first.
Drahkuhl created a rift in space. A doorway to another realm where demons ruled. Some called it hell. The first he could see was the two-headed wolf. A descendant of Cerberus who guarded the Gates of Hell. Though, the prey he sought were across many miles of water. There were others he could see that may be fitting for the task. His strength would only allow him to bring over one. He chose a demon sorcerer. The Jinn-Magician was ancient and powerful. He could be controlled, however.
When the rift closed, a tall figure stood before him, robed in scarlet and sapphire. The jinn wielded a black twisted staff; a large ruby clutched in a gold fist at the tip. The ruby was a conduit for the power of the jinn. Now released, it could use the staff to travel great distances in this realm. Drahkuhl could not journey with him, not yet at least. His own return to power was tied up in these surrounding lands. He could not be free of them until he gained certain artefacts of power to release him of its bonds.
He gave two simple orders. ‘Bring me the dragon. Kill the boy.’
The Jinn-Magician’s ruby stone flared bright crimson. Red sparks burst into the sky. But then, nothing. The jinn shrugged his shoulders, its ebony skinned face covered in a white mask slashed blood red and gold. Curved bull horns rising from the temples.
Drahkuhl would need more blood to fuel the transportation. Those scattered sheep would have to suffice.
***
Matthew was awoken by Utredius’s chirps and squawks. They were quite urgent, so Matthew rolled onto his back, sat upright, and rubbed his eyes. There was a faint blueness to the light of the room where he slept. He was on a pallet with padded mattress, blankets, and pillow. Eldarus still snored in the single bed stationed against the right wall. It was cold, the fire in the other room must have died down hours ago. Still, there was nothing that should have alarmed the dragon.
Utredius flapped his tiny wings and danced on clawed legs, jumping a foot or two off the ground every third squeak or chirrup.
‘What’s wrong, boy?’ Eldarus asked, the old man had woken and rubbed his bearded chest. He grunted like a bear waking at spring’s thaw.
‘It’s cold, im’pater,’ Matthew replied. ‘Perhaps that’s why he’s fretting.’
‘Be a good lad and get the fire going, eh boy?’ Eldarus rolled over and soon his breathing returned to a sleeping rhythm.
‘But what if it’s … ’ He grimaced as Eldarus began to snore obnoxiously. He wondered if the old man was faking it!
He threw his blanket aside, moving to the larger room to stoke the fire. It was mostly grey ash when he entered the room, though the red coals were burning bright underneath. He put smaller kindling on first, breaking twigs from a nearby bronzed pot. There were larger branches and then some logs that Matthew would struggle to lift on his own. But he was nearly a teenager. He could do it.
He was wearing a too-big pair of forge-fire gloves that Old Farimus had left out for him. It was considerate of the Pirate Trader. His hospitality earlier in the evening had also been very suitable for the son of Utred Eaglehawk.
Utredius was still panicking over something. He had woken the large green parrot Calaflan, who was now doing a wing waving dance upon his perch with squawks of discontent. ‘What is it with you two?’ Matthew asked slowly as he placed a few thicker branches on the flames, that licked the wood like devil’s tongues.
He went back to his bedside and lifted one of the blankets off the top, wrapping it over his shoulders as he slowly paced back towards the fire in the other room. The slate tiles felt like ice beneath his stockinged feet.
He was trying to lift one of the larger logs onto the flames when Utredius began to hoot and holler in a wild state! Matthew spun to see a very tall thin figure standing over him. Whatever it was, it wore a white mask slashed red and gold, with black horns like a bull rising from the temples. Its robe was blue and red. It wielded a staff. A great stone at its tip burned with intense crimson light.
Matthew hardly realised he had dropped the log of wood on the hearth before turning, and the scent of smoke alerted him to the fact that his blanket was aflame. He stood staring in horror as webs of ice spread across the walls.
The figure reached a clawed fist towards Matthew. The forge gloves slipped free as his arms fell helplessly at his sides. Suddenly Eldarus stumbled into the room, muttering, ‘What is with that blasted dragon, boy?’ The old wizard seemed to come to his senses as he took in the scene. The demon creature turned to face Eldarus upon his entry. As they stared at each other across the room, Matthew found the courage to dance out of his blanket. By instinct he threw the blanket over the creature. Flames surged up the cloth in a triumphant splendour. Matthew guessed that was Eldarus adding a little magic. Bright orange fire, then blue and green.
The demon roared. The sound was like nothing Matthew had ever heard. Fierce. Terrifying. Evil.
‘Run, boy!’ Eldarus cried in rasping tones. ‘To me, boy! To me, now!’
A surge of vitality rushed through the fear. He bent to snatch up Utredius, then bolted towards the wizard. His fingers had scraped against the tiles while picking up the dragon. He feared by the pain he was bleeding, perhaps having lost a few fingernails. But he did not stop.
‘Farimus!’ Eldarus cried. ‘Farimus, get up you Old Sea Dog!’ Eldarus did not have his walking staff. His magic would be limited, though his voice was booming in a way that told Matthew there was power involved. ‘Demon in the house! Up, now man!’ As the thought entered his mind, Matthew was suddenly scrambling through the other doorway. He rushed to Eldarus’s bedside. Fetching the staff.
He was running back towards the wizard when a great white light filled the doorway. There was a distant humming. He knew it was coming from the next room. But it could have been miles away. Then a rumble. Thunder. The walls of the next room blasted to shreds, stone and timber collapsed as Farimus rushed to grasp Matthew. The Pirate Trader threw him over the shoulder with the dragon in the other hand. Matthew dropped the staff as all turned to darkness. The room was filling with smoke and dust. He choked and spluttered. The scent of charcoal filled his nostrils.
Farimus charged through the house to exit and run through the streets in a wild frenzy. ‘I got you boy!’ He shouted. ‘Do no’ fear!’
‘We have to save Eldarus!’ Matthew cried.
‘That Old Buzzard can look after ’is’self far better than you or me, lad! Best we use what time we have.’
‘You are a good man, Farimus.’ Matthew whispered amongst tears.
‘I will no’ fail ye’ my king!’
‘My king! My king!’ Came the repeated chant, that told Matthew that Calaflan had somehow escaped, and must be flying above Farimus’ head!
There was still a growing scent of smoke in the air. Matthew guessed some of the fires had spread to other buildings. The sea port town was coming awake in the middle of the night. Lamp lights flared from windows bright amber as Matthew looked left and right down the laneways as Farimus charged. Matthew was very disoriented, due to the fact that he was effectively flying backwards upside down!
City bells sounded the alarm, to alert the City Watch and perhaps also start an effort to put out the spreading flames. The firefighters would have a hard time stopping this one. But perhaps if Eldarus was still alive … he wailed with tears welling again as Farimus changed directions. The smell of sea salt filled his lungs.
‘Are we headed for the docks?’ Matthew asked.
‘We are, indeed, King Matthew. Fastest way I know to get as far from this place as possible.’
‘Couldn’t we find horses?’
‘We might, if we ‘ad more time. But I stand on sea legs, lad. Mine were not made for riding hard. We set sail and wait for the wizard to send word.’
Soon he could hear the thump of the wooden docks beneath Farimus’ feet. Fishermen were preparing nets in their boats, though most were looking back towards the town. A red-golden glow tracing lines across that side of their silver-moonlit figures. Smoking long stemmed pipes and wearing overalls and flat floppy caps, they had the look of men conflicted over whether to chase the morning’s catch or stay to help put out the fires.
Farimus was suddenly bellowing. ‘Look lively lads! Prepare to cast off! We’ve got a devil on our heels!’ Matthew felt the world heave as Farimus charged up the boarding plank. When Matthew was set down on the deck, he had a better chance to look around. This looked like the Pirate Trader’s own vessel, particularly by the way the crew obeyed his every order like they feared his wrath.
The Pirate Trader shouted a number of other orders as the men hoisted the sails and lifted the loops of rope from the docks. When they began to move out onto the water Farimus urged Matthew to get below deck. They trudged down several stairways to reach the Captain’s Cabin. It was a fairly large space with a thick wooden desk, a bed, two chairs and an old chest large enough to fit a bison.
‘I do no’ like to tell ye’ this, lad,’ Farimus said with sad eyes, ‘but ye’ need to get in there. It will float plenty good if we strike more trouble. And I need to hide ye’ as best as I’m able.’
Matthew held Utredius as he stared up at the dark-bearded, one-eyed pirate with the king parrot on his shoulder repeating, ‘Up on deck. Up on deck.’
‘I trust you,’ Matthew said. Then he was climbing into the chest that was well padded with cloaks and robes of finely cut wool and silk.
‘That smaller chest holds gold, lad. You use it if we get separated.’ He left the chest but threw a bunch of golden goblets and jewelled relics over his shoulder that clattered against the wooden cabin floor. ‘Keep quiet, lad. It will be dark in here. Try to be brave.’
Matthew gave his bravest salute to the Sea Captain before the lid closed. Utredius wailed as darkness closed around them. He heard the clasps lock tight after it closed. He wondered how much air he had in here.
He could faintly hear the clatter of those golden objects being collected and hidden away elsewhere. It sounded as if the man was doing his best to hide him.
He heard boots thumping back up the staircases. Then a massive boom filled the air. It sounded as if the walls of the cabin were being torn open in a great explosion! The chest tilted, he could feel that much, then it began to slide across the wood until a slight fall. He was caught by a splashing sound, telling him the chest was now in the water. Utredius had breathed a few short bursts of blue flame during the ordeal. Now they waited, as the chest floated upon the waves of the sea.
His breathing became laboured, as tight pain began to constrict upon his own chest. It had begun when Farimus had picked him up and taken him from Eldarus. It was the same constricting pain he felt whenever he thought of his parents. Seeing their faces for the last time always brought on these feelings of a sharp ache that seemed powerful enough to crush his breastplate.
Then the lid was ripped open. A bolt of lightning tore the air above. There above the chest was a man in dark grey plated armour. He clung to the chest with hands and feet, and in the brief seconds the lightning lit up the man’s face, Matthew thought his nostrils flared quite dramatically. It was a bearded man that seemed tall and foreboding. Utredius made a sound that was possibly delighted, as the man snatched up Matthew under one arm, with his pet dragon held close to Matthew’s chest. The next moment the figure launched from the chest, carrying them into the sky as if they were that bolt of lightning returning to the heavens.
Matthew looked down a moment to see the dark ocean waves flickering silver in the moonlight. He saw the ship in the distance, burning as it sank into the sea.
He was upside down again, so he couldn’t see what was holding them up this high in the air. Are we flying?
He began to panic, thinking this must be another demon. He kicked and screamed, still clutching Utredius before the man touched his brow with a finger that burned bright white. It was then that he noticed a band of gold reflected upon the man’s brow. As the same hand reached to relieve Matthew of the dragon, he saw everything growing dark. He was suddenly very tired. He was peaceful. He began to dream.
***
When Matthew woke, he knew he was in a strange land. The air smelled different. There was no seaside air, it was dank and fetid like close to swampland. He could hear a river running nearby. His memory of the night before was still hazy, though he began to recall flickering images of the man that had carried him through the skies.
He was wrapped in one of Farimus’ cloaks. He hadn’t realised his benefactor had taken any garments with him in the time that he appeared and lifted Matthew and Utredius into the air.
The little dragon was close by, onyx scales gleaming in the morning light. The flora and fauna were immediately foreign also. As he made his way to the river, he had noticed more than seven new kinds of plant and three types of reed that did not grow in his own lands. He also saw a number of furry little creatures with ears too large to be any mouse or rat.
He was still bleary-eyed and making his way towards the sound of water to get a drink, when he almost stumbled over the armour of the man who had apparently rescued him. Utredius was in stealth mode, and Matthew mimicked him as he fell to his knees, then crawled over the next rise on his belly.
What he saw was another puzzle he was yet to unravel. There in the clear flowing waters, a black furred monkey was submerged, with blazing garnet eyes. It sat scratching its back with a fistful of reeds. The dark fur seemed almost formed of shadows, seeming to smoke or shimmer when looked at from the sides of his vision. The eyes were like stones pulled from a furnace. Intense heat that assured this creature was unnatural.
A moment later the creature sniffed the air, then appeared more alert. Matthew watched as it climbed the riverbank, to scuttle into a nearby copse of shrubbery with a small silver oak and a peach tree.
He continued to stare at the bushes until he saw the creature snatch a peach from a low branch, then two more as juicy munching sounds followed. It made a few ape-like noises, perhaps he was nervous, and then a sound like twigs snapping filled the air. A few small birds flitted from the bushes to take flight.
Matthew held his breath until he heard a man speaking in gruff tones. ‘Boy, fetch me my robes, won’t you?’ The accent was foreign. But even the first words were enough to know he was likely in Sese’Chin territory. His mind boggled at the speeds they must have travelled overnight. He could roughly calculate that by the fastest of ships it could take as long as four months to cross the same distance! ‘I say boy! My robes? If you, please.’
‘How do I know I can trust you?’ Matthew replied.
‘I saved you last night, didn’t I?’
‘I suppose so. How did you find me?’
‘Why, it was your little friend, of course.’ Utredius made a gleeful chirping noise. ‘You might say he had been calling me for a short while before then. I could sense his call from afar. So, I came to his rescue. And to yours, fairy boy.’
Matthew didn’t know what he meant by calling him ‘fairy boy’, but the rest seemed to make a little sense to him.
‘I will bring you your robes. But not your weapons until we have talked.’
‘That’s a good boy,’ the man replied. He saw a blue light fizzle and what sounded like a few puffs on a pipe. He was carrying one of the garments worn under armour towards the patch of shrubbery when he noticed plumes of smoke rising into the air.
‘Are you smoking?’ Matthew asked.
‘Wise boy, sharp senses, clever mind. Good.’
‘Are you making fun of me?’ Matthew asked as he tossed the garment into the bushes.
‘Perhaps a little.’ His voice was husky. The accent made his words short, sharp, masculine.
When the man emerged from the bushes, he saw it was the same face of his rescuer.
He was thin, tall and broad at the shoulders. A warrior’s build.
His face was strong, handsome, like a figure carved from stone. Those nostrils were less pronounced now that he appeared at ease, though there was something about that broad nose and large nostrils he could not quite put his finger on. Then it struck him.
‘Where did the monkey go?’
‘Monkey, boy? I saw no monkey here this morning.’
Matthew giggled as understanding took hold.
‘My name is Matthew. What’s yours?’
‘My first Holy Master named me Sun Wukong.’ He beamed with pride.
Matthew giggled again, knowing its translation, but still he asked in earnest, ‘What does it mean?’
The man opened his mouth to speak, then noticed Matthew’s amusement and swung a hand like a casual blade swipe to reply, ‘It doesn’t matter what it means, okay. It’s just my name.’
‘Alright then.’ He struggled to control his giggling. ‘How did you do the flying thing?’
Sun Wukong beamed again, his chest swelling as he gazed down and then swept an arm up into the sky. ‘It is an ancient magic. If you are the dragon’s master; you should know of it. Have you not heard the name Cloudwalker?’ It was then that Matthew took another look at the fine silk robe the man now wore. It seemed the garment had been magically altered by the wearer. It was in Chin style of flowing serpentine dragons breathing balls of blue flame, the colours were mostly blue and green with some scarlet and gold. But amongst those dragons were men and women riding clouds, wielding lightning balls in their fists.
‘Cloudwalkers,’ Matthew said slowly. ‘You mean like El’Tihir?’
At the mention of this name Wukong’s face was strained. He lowered his head with hand to heart as he replied, ‘Yes, like him. He is sorely missed.’ He gave a nervous grin as he said, ‘But the signs say one day, he shall return.’ He looked a little giddy, Matthew thought it was perhaps delirium setting in.
‘El’Tihir died when he Divided his Soul to create the Seed of the Great Tree.’
‘Yes, but just like the Red Phoenix, El’Tihir shall return when our need is greatest.’
‘If you say so,’ Matthew replied dubiously. ‘If you really are a Cloudwalker, show me again. Prove it.’
‘How else do you think we got here, boy?’ He seemed a little offended.
Matthew crossed arms over his chest.
‘Okay, okay, if you insist,’ Wukong said.
Matthew waited a few moments as Wukong breathed in a concentrated manner. Then crossing his own arms, he barely bent his knees before leaping into the air over a hundred feet or higher! And yes, he actually landed on a small grey cloud! It was astonishing to witness.
He waved from the top of the cloud, then did a flip through the air that sent him flying so fast and far that Matthew was sure he had crossed the horizon in a fleeting moment before flipping back to land on the same cloud a second later. He stood proudly with arms in the air in wait of applause.
Matthew did applaud. And he laughed out loud too. ‘Now come back and protect me!’
Wukong stepped off from the side of the cloud. A second later his body thudded into the earth so hard the ground seemed to tremble. ‘That is just a little cloud-soaring. You will learn to do much better.’
Matthew stared in stunned wonder. ‘Me? A Cloudwalker? How do you know?’
‘I sense it in you. That is why I called you fairy boy. Your soul is rich with magic.’
‘But I’m already gifted in the Power of Earth,’ Matthew replied. ‘Are you saying I have the ability to wield more than one form of Elemental Power?’
‘It is rare nowadays. Though, yes, if you have other spells then it must be so. A true Cloudwalker is usually skilled in at least the Powers of Air and Fire. I sense you are already capable of both of these.’
Matthew gasped, then danced a little jig for joy. ‘That’s amazing, Wukong. Wait till I tell … ’ he stopped short of finishing when Wukong replied, ‘Your wizard friend? Yes, he will be okay, I think. When I arrived to rescue you, I sensed he was still battling that fiend in the town, higher on the hill. He is strong, your friend. What is his name?’
‘He’s called many names, but I know him as Eldarus.’
Wukong put a finger to his lips with a contemplative expression. ‘I’m not sure if I know him.’ It was then that Matthew again had a good look at the band of gold encircling Wukong’s brow. It was a thin band of gold right around his skull, and the two ends met like round-ended sickle blades pushing upwards against one another, in the space between his eyebrows.
His beard was a rich burnt orange, with no moustache, though the short-cut hair on his head was black, tinged with white at the temples. His skin was tan like tree bark, and his brows were thick and shaggy, the same colour as his beard.
‘Now I will fetch you your quarterstaff, my good man.’
Wukong looked suddenly quite amused. ‘You will fetch it for me? I should warn you; it is quite heavy.’
‘It doesn’t look too heavy to me.’
‘Try it then. Just try not to strain your back. Bend knees.’
Matthew made his way to the staff that shone like black metal, with golden bars on either end. He bent his knees, got his little fingers around the bottom sides of the weapon, and lifted. He only got it about a half foot off the ground when his knees began to tremble. He released the thing, that thudded into the sand with a sound like thunder. The earth rumbled.
Wukong quickly made his way to Matthew’s side, helping him to stand. He looked upon Matthew with a very confused, almost hurt expression. His jaw hung open a few times, before he asked, ‘How in heaven and earth did you manage that?’
‘It was a bit too heavy for me. You were right. But maybe when I’m a bit older I’ll be able to wield it.’
Wukong’s eyes bulged as if that were the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Though he still looked a little shocked. ‘Perhaps you will, fairy boy.’ He reached down to lift the weapon with one hand. It appeared light as a feather in his grip as he spun it a few times in circles.
‘It looks easy for you,’ Matthew said.
‘Yes, but not for anyone else,’ Wukong replied. ‘I must tell you; I have met dragons that could not lift this weapon of mine, even when it was a flat bar of metals fallen from heaven. I cannot believe you were able to lift it even as high as you did. You are a special one. I underestimated you. You have king’s blood in you?’
‘My father was a great king,’ Matthew replied.
‘Ahh, then, I think I know who you mean. That explains a little.’ He squinted a moment then leaned the staff towards Matthew with one end touching the ground, on a forty-five-degree angle. Wukong gripped the staff in the middle, with the other end hanging above Matthew. ‘Try to hold it with both hands,’ Wukong said. ‘I will make sure you are not hurt.’
He gripped the staff, both arms reaching up to hold the golden end of the weapon as Wukong allowed some of the weight to shift to Matthew’s grip. It was still quite heavy, but Wukong held most of the weight, so he was still able to stand without trembling.
‘Remarkable,’ Wukong said, his expression set in contemplation. ‘No wonder the dragon chose you.’
‘His name is Utredius.’
‘Ahh then, now I know who your father was. I am sorry, boy.’
‘My name is Matthew, not boy.’
‘Matthew, of course, forgive me. You may let go.’
He released the staff and Wukong lifted it over his shoulder, at which point it seemed to shrink in size so fast it was hard to even be sure, but a moment later he was certain this strange fellow placed the weapon behind his ear. It was no larger than a thick sewing needle. He put on his armour without need of assistance. When he was done, he called down a cloud about the size of a small carpet. ‘Climb aboard, Matthew. We have a way to go yet.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘To meet an old friend.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Someone who can help protect you. My greatest competitor. And my most favoured ally.’