The Hollow Grove: The Companions [Book 2]

[30] Slate

Now

Slate dove from up high and spread his wings wide for his landing.  This one's always tricky, he told himself, and it has been a while.  The Scar of the world grew wider as he glided in and spotted the hidden entrance.  Some called it Castle Kalimas, which made no sense to him, since it was underground.  More like a fortress, he decided, though he just went with Kalimas most of the time.  The Order of Kalimas united Dragon and mindful kin against the Demons and the dark breeds an age ago.  The Dragons and a select group of the mindful still fought the Demons in secret when there was what they called either a 'flare-up' or a 'spawning'. 

He flared his dark wings at the last moment and refused to settle onto the landing pad which was common courtesy.  He landed on a trot, snickering at the Men standing guard.  He watched them scramble and at the last minute stand aside for the ancient black.  One of them dared approach.

"Mighty Slate, The Stormcloud, Bringer—"

"Stand aside, meat," grumbled the Dragon, "for I have not eaten this day."

The guard knelt, placed the tip of his ceremonial spear onto the stone floor, and lowered his eyes. 

Slate didn't smell fear, of course.  Not from these mindful.  They knelt out of respect, not fear.  The Dragon's stomach dropped the slightest bit.  He diagnosed the feeling and discovered it was a slight pang of guilt.  How long has it been since I've walked these halls?  Time slows and quickens for Dragons and sometimes it was difficult to tell.  Without stopping, Slate said, "I have business with the King.  Let him know I'm here."  Or not, it matters little to me.

Slate made his way through the maze of caverns, all more than wide enough for his large frame.  Though he did not need them, lanterns of magical fire lit his path.  He passed the Dragonforge.  A quick glance revealed Volcanis, the massive red Dragon who kept the forge lit at all times.  At the great anvil was Kieldere, the Dwarven Smithy, still swinging his magical hammer. 

Volcanis registered a slight nod to his old friend. 

Slate turned away pretending not to notice.  Volcanis. The Worldlighter.  Volcanis The Blowhard.  Slate stifled a laugh.  Some nicknames always stuck though.  He shook the old memories away.  He wasn't here for a reunion.  Keep moving, don't look back.

Remember why you are here.

At last he arrived at the scrying chamber.  Well, here goes, Slate thought.  He stepped into the massive domed room. 

Around the oval scrying table sat many different beings—both Dragon and mindful.  At the head of the table sat Cyrus, King of Dragons.  Slate had to admit the gold looked healthy and wise.  He belonged in that seat.  Is the seat even needed?  He shook the question from his mind.  Next to the King was the Queen, Slate's old friend Araness who smiled at his appearance.  Sidled next to her was their pup, Arataas, still giddy as ever.  Slate rolled his eyes.  A mind still full of grand tales from the days of old no doubt.  Slate wondered if Mommy had even let him off the teet yet, but the scars on his chest told Slate that maybe he'd seen a little bit of action as of late.  The pup's tail swung back and forth at the sight of him.  Slate had to admit it was good to see him too.  On the other side of the King, he was not surprised to see Balomar resting in a plush leather chair.  The bald Conjurer still held his position.  The Man swaddled in his dark robes was powerful and no Dragon would want him as an adversary.  The Order was lucky to have him and the Wizard seemed to keep his magic in check for the most part. But all Dragons knew that Wizards desire only power, especially Man. 

He only recognized half of the remaining council members.  Twenty four in all.  He nodded to the silver twins, Shimmer and Blade.  The Dragons returned the greeting with confidence and in unison as always.  Corelius sat huddled in a corner. Only at the sight of Slate did his pointy blue ears perk up.

"Slate," Cyrus was startled.  "The stars shine on our meeting."

"Slate!" Araness couldn't contain her excitement.  She started to rush to him and the black held up a claw to stop her.

"You will not be as excited to see me when I state my purpose," said Slate.

"Please, take your place at the table," Cyrus offered. 

Slate snuck a glance at his old platform.  They left his old seat open for his return.  They pity me, thought Slate.  That's what this is.  "I'm afraid I won't be staying.  I'm here about a rumor I've heard in the winds to the west." 

Araness nodded.  "We too have heard rumblings."

"This new evil...is it..." Slate could not force the name from his voice.

"I'm sorry old friend," Cyrus said.  "Something has happened to Kellis Vöhl."

A/N - A big reveal for you! I hope you enjoyed it. So far this story arc is working out and I hope it stays this way. I do not expect much change with this except adding more detail to this rough draft.  I may change Slate's name if I come up with something better. As you may remember I have a naming problem :D 😂🤓

Dedicated to a fellow Dragon fan @jjdslp