Hello :)

This is an original fic, hoping to capture an anime feel. For previous
chapters, please visit:

http://www.Lonet.ca/res/askuse/dragons

Public or private C&C welcome!

Enjoy :)



THE DRAGON'S TOWER

by Andy Skuse

Part 3


A warm amber light greeted Kajagua as he quickly ascended the last few
steps up into the second floor of the tower, and closed the trap door below
him. Immediately, he could sense something was odd about this room. The
light seemed to turn, very slowly in his sight, hypnotic in its rhythmic
cycle. All around him, tiny beads of bright gold emerged from the thick
amber haze, orbiting the room in lazy random circuits, like hundreds of
fireflies on a warm summer night. Magic was everywhere, and he could feel
that this magic was good.

But the light did not seem to have any discernible source. Where a candle
ought to have been, there was nothing but an old wooden table, cluttered by
objects he could not yet make out because of the powerful--

Light.

Kajagua's eyes narrowed, his vision finally managing to pierce the glow
about the room. Beyond the magical amber light, beyond the swirling
pinpoints of gold, and beyond his wildest dreams, lay ancient objects of
great beauty.

With widening eyes, the young warrior attempted to take stock, though his
senses were nearly overwhelmed with the force of his awe.

The table in the center of the room emerged from the glow first, and on it
rested four gold goblets shining brightly, as if made new yesterday. Their
delicate stems wound upwards around each cup, the windings wrought in the
image of climbing vines. Accompanying the goblets were four sets of
dinnerware, equally exquisite in their appearance, and exhibiting the same
natural grace and beauty that took away his breath.

His gaze traveled round the room very slowly, as more and more wondrous
objects came into focus. Hand-carved bowls made of Oak, inlaid with
delicate vines of gold. Gleaming hand-hammered copper cooking pots. A small
but heavy-looking banded chest, unlocked, open and overflowing with
glittering gems of varying sizes. A massive Oak bookshelf, stuffed full
with row upon row of enormous tomes, with titles embossed in a script he
could not discern. In fact, the writing on the covers did not seem like
writing at all to his eye. More like runic depictions of the wind or the
branches of a tree, curling and swooping with an undeniable symbolic grace.
But symbolic of what?

Behind him, a less unorganized pile of objects lay waiting for his
inspection, though the disarray could not diminish the obvious value of the
items. Finely woven cloaks of forest green, sturdy oak staves, various
pieces of clothing, made mostly of leather, hand-crafted long bows, and a
long wooden box.

As Kajagua's eyes came to rest on the box, his arms suddenly extended
toward it of their own accord. Something, an unseen force, was drawing him
to it. He resisted the force, but his body was no longer his own.

With clenched teeth he fought the strong compulsion to open the box, and
managed to slow his transit momentarily, allowing his gaze to sweep across
the lid in a vain attempt to decipher the lines carved into the top. Deep
violent gouges, almost angry in their arcs and swirls, crude in comparison
to the delicate and graceful runes etched into the other objects, yet
evoking a power that hinted at the hands of the same artist who had left
his or her cryptic words behind on the other items in the room.

Kajagua's hands suddenly stopped, his left hand having come to rest on the
smooth dark wood of the strange box before him. The ancient wood gave off a
gentle heat where his hand lay, growing very slowly in intensity, but not
enough to burn. As he felt the warming beneath his hand, the golden glow in
the room behind him began to grow as well. The boy watched in confusion as
the other objects in the room were slowly swallowed up by the light. His
mind struggled to break the grip on his captive will, to break free of the
force that was holding him from escaping.

With the tenacity of a storm, the light continued to fill his vision, and
as he fought to close his eyes, the hundreds of tiny pinpoints of light
spiraling about him began to increase the speed of their orbits. Staring
into the center of the miniature galaxy, unable to do anything but listen,
his ears detected a faint sound. The sound of voices, hundreds in concert,
a chorus of young and old, calling out a name. Their cries overwhelmed him,
full of anger and pain, but contained within rigid walls of promise and
innocence that made his heart sink, and his hands tremble.

Then the box opened. And just before losing his sight to the blinding glow
of the room, he saw a brief glimpse of the same curving runes he had seen
about the room, but this time they adorned the handle of a very nasty
looking sword�


Kajagua opened his eyes to the sound of thunder directly overhead. He
clapped his hands over his ears and waited until the rumbling had faded.
Strong winds clawed at his arms and legs. Sharp, silent, flashes of pure
white light lit the area around him for a few seconds, revealing a dense
forest very unlike the room he was just in. And at his feet lay the sword
that he had glimpsed inside the wooden box.

As he leaned down to pick up the weapon, the rain began to fall hard,
pelting his face and body with the sting of a hundred tiny insects.
Suddenly the sky above him seemed to rip, then split wide open as the next
wave of thunder hammered the air. The storm was just getting started. He
needed to find shelter, and fast. With sword in hand, and no idea where he
was, he began to run.

He ran headlong through the forest, the gray light of pre-dawn his only
guide to avoiding the black silhouettes of trees and other obstacles. And
as if the forest had heard his request, a faint light appeared ahead of
him, barely visible between the swaying branches of the wind-swept trees.
Within moments he was kneeling down behind a recently downed oak tree, his
gaze fixed on an amazing sight in a ring-shaped clearing below him.

Dozens of figures scurried about, below what looked like a village in the
trees, the adults scooping up young children as they prepared for the
oncoming storm. Kajagua squinted to make out the features of the villagers
in the darkness, noting their unusual height and thin stature.

Behind him�

Without thinking, Kajagua raised the strange sword in his hands to block an
attack from behind him. He could not see his attacker, but he felt the
sharp rap of a wooden staff against the sword's sharp blade. He turned,
disbelieving his luck, to face his attacker.

But the path behind him was empty, only dark shadows swishing in the wind.

This time the attack came from the side, and though the sword warned him,
and initiated the momentum to block the attack, Kajagua was not fast
enough. The mysterious attacker's wooden staff came down hard against his
shoulder, causing him to cry out against the roaring winds and hammering
thunder. A second blow struck him sharply on the head, and all the noise
around him faded from his ears.


End Part 3


-------------------
Raven's Garage & Fanfics ~ http://www.Lonet.ca/res/askuse/
"If humans don't want us, then why did they create us?" - Naomi Armitage