The Blade Heir

Revelations of Lineage, part 3

Lucius let the truth of his past sink in. An heir to the throne of Aldron? He could barely imagine himself taking the role of a Protector of Breninmaur, much less of a king over thousands of subjects. The responsibility of such a position was far beyond his imagination at this point in his life. "What does all this mean? Am I to return to Joppa and challenge the rule of Alfryd?" he asked apprehensively.

Helmer shook his head. "No, Lucius. There will be a time for that, but I do not believe it is now."

He sighed in frustration. "Then what is to become of me, Father? I feel a great burden suddenly from all these revelations you bring me."

"I am sorry, my son. I did not wish to make you sorrowful over all this. But you are of paramount importance to your people. You would not have been left on the threshold of Verdania if it were not so," Helmer sat down again and began looking through the assortment of papers on his desk.

A question lingered in Lucius' mind as the wise elf foraged through the tomes and scrolls, "Does the Draknoir know I am here? You said, the descendants of Cervantes were hunted and killed by them—could they have followed whoever left me here?"

Helmer looked up at him with serious eyes, "I'm not sure. But I can assure you no Draknoir fiend would dare enter the sanctuary of Verdania, lest a swift descent to the grave be their desire."

"What are they?" Lucius asked curiously.

Helmer's countenance turned grim, "They are a fallen race of the ellyll. An ancient race of elvish warriors who were once highly favored by D'arya, but their lust for power led to their downfall. They abandoned the ways of the Elf Queen and embraced the detestable dragon god, Nergoth. Through Nergoth and his dark magic, they were given an abominable power which consumed them and in the end, transformed them. They are no longer elves, but beings of darkness. No more do you see fair-skinned folk seeking peace, but scaly, monstrous beings waging war and yearning for blood.

"In the years after their fall, the Draknoir allied themselves with the dragons of Ghadarya. Paying tribute to their lord," Helmer paused abruptly and whispered, "the Black Dragon, Kraegyn."

Lucius felt the blood drain from his face. The blue fire of the great dragon consuming his flesh immediately consumed his thoughts. His heart raced in fear of the hypnotic blue stare of the Black Dragon's eyes.

Helmer sensed his sudden burden, "What is it, my boy?"

Lucius hesitated, "It's nothing."

"Tell me, has another dream or vision disrupted your mind?" Helmer asked.

He wished to remain silent, but his father's incredible foresight would determine the answer at some point. "Yes."

Helmer nodded his head. "I feared you would have another one. Was it more vivid than the last?"

The Black Dragon's hot breath burned in his mind. "Much more vivid."

Helmer sighed and started digging through the clutter on the desk again. He pulled out a withered tome and quickly searched the pages. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight, darting from side to side as he read the text.

"Ah, here it is," he whispered. "Read this page, my son."

Helmer handed him the book, pointing at the inscription. It was written in the common language of Azuleah. The text was very faded and written with quick pen strokes. It read:

Yéwa, the deliverer of the race of men has spoken to his prophet. He has found favor in Joppa through Yesu, the Great King to come. A star has fallen on Azuleah and spread through the land. Men have partaken of the land and have lost their way. Yéwa has seen the evil of Nergoth, his time is coming.