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CHRONICLES OF THE DRAGONS BANE

BOOK III: THE SEEDS OF WAR

PROLOGUE



Ten years have passed since the blessed arrival of Phillip’s son Haraden. Within
The walls of the great castle, life was routine and quiet, outside of the perimeter
Though rumors spread. Word of an army striking the Northern realm was spoken
In hushed tones among campfires and dinner tables. King Harrison passed into
Immortality in the autumn of the eighth year leaving two rulers to oversee a
Massive kingdom.

Phillip had taken leave on his sojourn to raise Haraden with Vickaria. Though
Now in his early thirties, the Chosen One had flecks of gray forming within his
Brown hair giving it a regal appearance. The trade route set up by Varikon had
Been quite a success for the Northern lands and the trader. Kepheron continued
To visit with Maetredon who traveled between the routes always on guard.

Dragon Claws and Shadowsteed gave their abilities of flight in the name of the
Kings and patrolled the skies with Caravax on alternating intervals. Since the first
Omen of the war, the Draconian had become more sullen over the years, his only
Sense of joy was watching Haraden growing into manhood.

Far to the West, Octavious and Necomsile knelt before the whole statue of
Tarakon. Both sections had joined by their own power a few months ago and
Now the dark God stood over both men with the wings pulled back and his arms
Folded over. Behind the two Generals, a fleet of warships lay amidst the
Gathering crowds moving weapons and supplies to the decks. The former
Kingdoms of the Animiles had fallen in the first wave of what was to be a
Series of attacks. Their main goal was to draw Phillip from his home and
Defeat the Chosen One before the prophecy can continue.

The powers of Tarakon had already started growing as a gray fog settled among
The islands, the wind built up speed causing white crests along the waves. The
Moment arrived and the second wave was now ready to strike….

“Caravax, why do you look down today?” Shadowsteed asked as he stretched his
Wings.

“It has been over three weeks since Varikon returned from the East and I haven’t
Heard from Lotarian or Barrios.”

There wasn’t time to give a word of hope and comfort as the horizon suddenly
Darkened with pillars of thick black smoke. Looking at his friend, Caravax yelled
As he took off towards his childhood home,

“Go and inform the others!” His voice carried off as he flew further away.

The closer he arrived to the scene, the more his stomach lurched with disgust. All
Around him were the wrecks of structures. Among the flames though Caravax
Saw the silhouettes of his people aiding one another, the Landwellers were also
Seen among his kind offering support and their strength when needed. Finding an
Open clearing, the ruler settled on the ground and walked among the first group
Of survivors.

“What’s happened?” Caravax asked with his temper flaring.

A Landweller with the features of a rabbit pointed to the West and shook his head
With resignation.

“A band of soldiers cam through here last night and set fire to our lands, we
Rushed to your boundary to give warning but were too late. Since Lotarian has
Gone to the East, we are in your services my king.” The refugee said as he bowed.

Caravax lifted the survivor from his knees and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What is your name young one?” The King asked in a soft tone.

“Taran my King. Nephew of Latarian, however I feel that this is not the time for
Idle conversation. Please return to the castle and warn the human that the enemy
Is seeking him. I’ll stay here and help as much as I can.” The Landweller said
With stubbornness.

Turning back to the castle, Caravax took flight and soared above the clouds taking
The long way around the shores watching the thin black line of soldiers making
Camp beside the Western shoreline. A warship whose features have not been
Seen in ten years sat rolling in the current.

“Cronius help us.” Caravax muttered as he saw the banners of Tarakon.


Phillip had already gathered the others at the entrance as Caravax started to land at the castle. Looking from one to the other the ruler saw the uncertainty in the eyes of his friends.

“It’s just as we feared, Tarragon’s Army struck the towns hard. They’re trying to lure you out to fight.” Caravax reported in a quiet tone.

Phillip grabbed the sword of Dragons Bane and started to edge himself closer to the lower doors.

“If they want me, they’ll have to fight first!” Phillip replied as he broke through and ran out the doors.

Dragon Claws had suspected this action to be taken and had moved himself by the railing of the balcony. As Phillip was seen on the ground racing blindly to the smoke, the Draconian dove across and picked up the man with ease.

“You must remain calm. Remember that not only does your destiny need fulfillment, but also your son’s life. Do you realize how foolish and fatal your choice would have been?” He asked Phillip while releasing his grip.

Phillip walked past his friend and closed the door to his chambers behind him. Vickaria was standing against the farthest wall with Haraden behind her. A war club was being gripped tightly by her slender hands.

“We’re safe for the time. The outer towns however were hit bad.” Phillip said as he embraced his family.

“Why strike them when it’s you who they seek?” Vickaria asked attempting to make sense of the matter.

“It’s because the time of war is upon us and no one is safe. No matter how far you escape the ripples surround us all.” Phillip answered as he closed the shutters on the windows.

Rest was hard to find these days and came only for moments. During one interlude, Phillip had a vision. The room radiated in beams of white and silver, a quiet voice that seemed to emanate from the walls called to him.

“Remember the words of the Oracle.”

As he rose startled awake, Phillip looked around the dark room questioning his state of mind. Looking over at his son nestled in the blankets and being held by Vickaria, a feeling of peace surrounded him. Crawling into bed he wrapped a protective arm around his family, the Gods seemed to have a sense of humor as Phillip fell into slumber.

The sounds of movement many floors below forced Phillip awake, the sun had risen only an hour before and the morning was shrouded with whippets of gray fog. A disturbance at the lower stairs caught his attention and soon he moved slowly out the chamber forcing his stiff body to move after resting.

Dragon Claws, Kepheron, Caravax, and Shadowsteed were standing at the base of the entrance holding someone at bay.

“Release me now! I command you to hear my words.” The figure was covered in a silver cloak hiding her features.

“I know who you are already, what sorcery has brought you this close to Phillip and his family?” Dragon Claws asked in a threatening voice.

There was something about the figure that caused Phillip to shudder for a moment. Her demeanor didn’t seem intimidating but a different emotion was surrounding her.


Gaining the courage, Phillip walked past his friends to confront the stranger.

“What brings you to my living quarters strange one?” He asked her.

Upon acknowledging the voice, the stranger turned her head and lowered the hood of the cloak. Frost white streaks collided with her dark crimson hair, the gray in her eyes revealed an age older than any physically shown.

“I’ve come to warn you that your family is in danger. Tarakon is aware of the birth of your son and plans to have him abducted.” The stranger said in monotone.

“Who are you and why would Tarakon wish to have my son?” Phillip asked taking hold of a spear that hung along the wall of the stairs.

“She is the daughter of Tarakon himself. The one who speaks false truths, usurper of the ages…Jorianna.” Dragon Claws answered with contempt.

“The son of the Chosen One would make the perfect sacrifice to my father, though his body has been reformed, the strength is not to his fullest. Which is why there is more blood to be shed in his name.” Jorianna explained with ease.

“What business do you have warning me about this?” Phillip asked moving the weapon closer to throwing point.

A strange look fell upon Jorianna which forced Phillip to lower the weapon and stand motionless.

“You will find this hard to believe, but I’m here to help you in this situation. Relinquish your son into my custody and I will protect him from my father’s forces.”

“What if I were to refuse? I know of your past actions so you should understand my lack of trust in you.” Phillip answered coldly.

Tarakon’s daughter walked towards Phillip raising her left hand to his forehead and wrapping her palm around it feeling the beads of warm sweat running down.

“I knew that you would not believe me, that is why Clarok had given me this spell for you to witness what I’ve endured to come to this reason.” Jorianna said as she cast the spell.


Among the visions of bloodshed and destruction from the Great Crusade came an overwhelming intense agony as Phillip felt each deathblow in the vision over a multitude times greater in each death scene.

“I was forced to feel the pain and torment that I have brought upon the others. Ten thousand years, over one million deaths and a greater number of orphans and destitute. Seeing and feeling the other side of power brought me to my knees knowing that the pain will not stop. It was at that moment that my Uncle appeared to me and offered a choice. I can either remain and endure this punishment for eternity, or renounce my father and aid you in the times to come. As I’m standing here you can see what my choice was.” Jorianna’s voice wavered as weakened from exhaustion.
“Dragon Claws bring Haraden before us.” Phillip requested still watching Jorianna with an expressionless visage.

“Are you sure you wish to do this Phillip?” Dragon Claws asked still holding contempt in his voice.


“If you wish to make this option you must hurry for Tarakon’s forces have already taken the first strike. Clarok has used a spell to cover the castle and our location in fog however the spells of a dragon are no match when going against a God. Time is of the essence.” Jorianna said showing concern.

Haraden arrived with Vickaria following behind grasping a dagger in her hand.

“Haraden, the enemy attacked our lands and is heading for us; therefore I wish you go with Jorianna. She will keep you safe and protect you.”

Haraden looked across at his parents and friends, Vickaria’s other hand sat upon his shoulder gripping tightly in a protective hold.


“When the time comes, we will find you and bring you home I promise.” Phillip said as he embraced his son one last time.

Loosening her grip on the boy, Vickaria kissed his cheek and backed away into the shadows fighting tears. Kepheron and the others stepped aside with their heads hung low, as Jorianna and Hareden passed, the sorceress stopped and faced the group once more.

“These times are going to be harder then ever. You must rely upon each other
And trust one another that the end will come soon. Phillip is not yet at the climax
Of his journey and the road he travels is a lonely path. Bring him comfort with
your presence and defend him at all costs. Rest assured the boy will be safe
under Clarok’s wing.”


Two silhouettes were seen walking into the mists vanishing at the castles
entrance. Kepheron and Shadowsteed stood quietly watching Phillip fight his
emotions, far above them Vickaria stood at the parapet of the tower lamenting
her anguish to the world. Caravax took flight and stood beside her holding the
shaking woman closely.

“I don’t understand her grief; the boy is alive and is going to be with Clarok.”
Dragon Claws said like an inquisitive child.

“It’s not the comfort of protection Dragon Claws, it’s the uncertainty about your
Childs safety or Cronius forgive my thought the loss of a child that Vickaria is
crying over.” Kepheron answered.


Phillip stood near the door staring at the thick wall of fog, still searching for the
figures that were no longer visible. A cold emptiness filled his heart as far above
Vickaria continued her cries screaming for Haraden. Each time, Phillip’s heart
Sank lower with despair.


“Phillip, there is still the problem of Tarakon’s forces to deal with. What do you
want us to do?” Shadowsteed asked stretching his wings for flight.

“Ensure the safety of the people and see where the enemy is making camp.
Nightfall will be upon us soon and we will retaliate then.” He answered coldly.

The griffin leaped into the air and flew over the burned out villages watching the
Refugees gathering supplies forming a caravan. Landing at the summit of a hill
He faced them and called their attention.


“Hear me my adopted people! Make haste to the castle and seek shelter. All able
Bodied men are to meet up with Phillip and Dragon Claws in the armory.”

Trying to sound commanding, Shadowsteed fought the feeling of dread that was
Swelling in his stomach. Shifting quickly he flew in wide circles over the caravan providing aerial support.

Phillip distributed weapons and armor to all the young face thrusting before him
With an eagerness to fight. His emotions crashed even more as the ages
Decreased with each person standing before him. Moving silently he closed the
Doors and passed by the boys clad in oversized armor struggling to hold weapons. Shadowsteed landed in the courtyard and he rushed over in anticipation.

“My how the Gods are playing with our emotions forcing ones so small to
Face their first battle.” Dragon Claws commented looking at the assembled force.

Phillip was already airborne atop Shadowsteed and flying to the campfires being
Lit miles away, Dragon Claws flew ten feet above the temporary forces taking
Command. The skies turned dark blue as night fell and a crimson moon rose
Blood red as it has been since the coming of the war.

“Wait for Phillip’s signal and attack with everything you have!” The Draconian
Called below to the army.

“For Cronius!” Came the response en masse.

Shadowsteed had already landed on the outskirts of the camp and watched
Phillip moving among the shadows climbing an elm tree that towered over a
Drunken Necomsile. The blade of Dragons Bane shimmered in many hues as
Firelight reflected from it. Phillip moved over a few inches and poised the blade
Vertical waiting for the moment to arise.

He was suspended in the air using the claws of the armor for support, twelve feet
Below him Necomsile was pouring another flask of wine into a skin pouch for
Easier drinking. Even from above his body odor was noticeable causing Phillip to
Bite his tongue or give the position away, the time drew closer as the intoxication
Began taking effect.

Necomsile lay against the tree drinking his victory toast loving the spoils of war.
Around him were his forces all bunked down for the night, tomorrow they would
March to the castle and take Phillip’s son in Tarakon’s name. He lifted the pouch
To drain the wine down his throat and belched loudly. With his head raised he
Gazed at the night sky smiling as he heard the cries of the refugees in the
Distance. A strange glowing shaft of light caught his attention, forcing his vision
To focus he started to release a startled yelp at the figure above.

Long brown hair hung above the glowing shaft illuminated by the fires were a
Pair of vengeful eyes glaring into Necomsile. The time of vengeance was upon
Him!

Phillip released his grip and allowed gravity to force him down. The blade
Entered the cavernous gap of Necomsile’s still open mouth until there came a dull
Thud. Landing on the corpse, Phillip tugged at the sword with all his might, the
Blade had pierced the leader’s skull and embedded itself into the tree. After
Wrestling for what seemed an eternity, Dragons Bane returned to its owner.
Around him the forces engaged the enemy setting fire to the tents and locking
Soldiers into them. One man tied a soldier to the ground and sat with sadistic
Curiosity holding a torch to the vulnerable limbs watching the skin redden and
blister while the victim screamed for mercy.

“You didn’t show any to my family when they cried for the same. Let’s see how
You like this.” The refugee said coldly as he doused the flames.

Removing two jars from his pockets, the man unscrewed one and poured honey all
Over the serious burns of the soldier causing a sickly sweet smell to rise around.
Phillip stood silent waiting to see what was to be this man’s fate while the
Refugee smiled like a child who was given a pastry. The second jar was opened
And a black substance was poured over the honey covered burns causing the
Soldier to scream hoarsely. Phillip moved closer and looked down fighting
Emotions as best he could, the black mass was quickly discovered to be thousands
Of ants who greedily ate the wounds.

“In the name of mercy kill me I beg you!” The soldier implored to Phillip who
Shoved the refugee out of the way.

“Did you show any too this man’s family?” The Chosen One asked coldly.

The soldier seeing his fate remained silent as the insects moved about his body.
In a fleeting second, Phillip drove his sword into the soldier’s chest giving him
Eternal release. The first group of forces were massacred where they camped.
Climbing atop Shadowsteed Phillip flew back to the castle awaiting the second
wave. While below them Necomsile lay with his bloody maw open staring with
glazed unmoving eyes at the bodies of his fallen men.

“Phillip what have you done?” Shadowsteed asked in surprise.

“I’ve sought my vengeance upon my enemies that’s all.” Phillip said in monotone.

The castle loomed quickly and soon they landed behind the walls waiting for
Whatever was bound to be next. The minutes wore away into hours as
Uneasiness settled among the warriors.

His patience finally extinguished Phillip opened the gates and walked out into
The woods searching for the elusive second wave.


Two hundred yards away from the warrior, a shadow stalked the man like prey.
Wondering when the window of opportunity would open for him, Octavious
Studied his foe with keen eyes. The sword in his grip was becoming leaden as the
Time dragged on, unlike Phillip though Octavious had a hunter’s patience.

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