Tales of Ardia: A Confluence of Fates

Author's Note: This story was originally submitted for the Paolini's Fantasy Challenge and is just being republished at this time for organizational aesthetic purposes.

Strosskar broke through the surface of the water, sending a rippling wave and a storm of spray in every direction. A pleasant sensation of afternoon sun cocooned his crimson scales as he spread his wings and continued to soar upward.

Had there been any onlookers on the far shore they might just have confused his ascent from the lake with an eruption from the volcano on the far side of the crater. The fleeting thought amused the massive dragon and he pumped his wings with added fervor. An entertaining notion indeed, but of course Strosskar knew there would be no admirers to appreciate the spectacle. He was the only member of the noble races or noble creatures to inhabit this particular island. And that was exactly how he wanted it.

Reaching an ideal altitude, Strosskar began to float and glide in practiced circles above the lake before venturing over the surrounding hills. It had been decades since he abandoned the larger, more populated islands of Revvokk to find this haven of solitude. He had chosen well. There were lush forests and grassy slopes for hunting spotted deer and warty pigs, the lake and hot springs for peaceful swimming and bathing, and the shallow caves in the ridges of the older craters for nesting.

If not for the great distance between this island and Kezzanir, the kingdom’s mainland isle, it would undoubtedly be a choice settlement for a great number of dragons and hisskezzas. And knowing every inch of this island, Strosskar knew exactly the places where the hisskezzas might build villages if they ever came. Although it had been years since he’d laid eyes upon a hisskezza city, it wasn’t difficult to imagine their curious lava rock homes and structures nestled on the slopes of his island’s terrain.

In his mind’s eye he could glimpse the cities of Kezzanir with perfect clarity, the markets and streets bustling with two-legged forms of he-skas, she-skas, and their little ones. He shouldn’t have thought of that place though, for he couldn’t stop a final memory from flashing starkly. The flashing gold eyes, flame red hair, and pale green scales stretched by a mischievous grin. A hisskezza, but not just any hisskezza, Skianna, his rider and heart mate.

The heaviness that fell upon his thoughts caused him to sink lower toward the earth. He had intended to hunt, but suddenly had no appetite. With slow strokes of his wings he altered course to head for his favorite hot spring. The flight to the turquoise pool atop the forested plateau was short, but long enough for his sorrow to swell. Descending gradually through the spirals of steam into the warm water, he willed his memories to lift away with the rising vapor.

Resting his chin on a boulder at the edge of the spring, he closed his eyes and focused only on the numbing heat spreading through his scales. Minutes of silence turned into hours and that was of no concern, for he had nothing but time.

A skittering of pebbles finally broke the stillness. Strosskar cracked open one eye and searched for the source of the noise. He’d forsaken hunting for the day, but if a goat or deer had practically wandered into his jaws, he couldn’t in good conscience let such an easy meal escape. Staring at the location where the sound had come from, he watched carefully, but no goat or deer was to be seen. He was about to close his eye again, certain it had just been some shifting rock settling, but then a blur of color darted out from behind a tree, sprinting until it was hidden behind a boulder some yards away.

Strosskar’s head jerked up immediately. He blinked both eyes several times and then fixated on the boulder. He had to be seeing things or dreaming. But just to be sure, he sucked a deep breath in through his nostrils, lingering on each scent. Then his breath caught short and he snorted a puff of air. There it was, a scent he hadn’t encountered since landing on the island, the scent of a hisskezza. Before he could grapple with the realization further, the blur darted forth once more making its way to hide behind another boulder. The mesmerized Strosskar observed with wonder. Not only was it a hisskezza, it was a very tiny one, a child. How could there possibly be a hisskezza hatchling on his island? It was unfathomable, but yet the proof was before him streaking yet again to its next hiding spot.

Seconds ticked by, Strosskar expected the hisskezza child to make another break for it, but all was still once more. Finally a scaly forehead and a pair of slit pupiled eyes peeked above the boulder. When the child’s eyes met the dragon’s gaze it let out a frightened hiss and ducked back down.

Strosskar climbed out of the pool, shaking water from his scales and keeping his eyes on the hisskezza’s current location. The ground reverbated with the impact of his heavy footfalls as he crept closer to where the child was crouched.

“You have nothing to fear from me, child,” Strosskar said, his voice raspy from not being used.

At first there was no response or reaction and Strosskar began doubting his senses again, maybe he had imagined it all. But then the tiny golden eyes reappeared, followed by a flat nose, and scaly chin. Its features were quite young, the child probably hadn’t seen more than three summers.

“How did you get here, child?” Stosskar queried.

The young hisskezza stared at him as thoughtfully as possible for a hatchling, then a soft slightly hissing voice replied, “I don’t know.” The slightly lower tone confirmed Strosskar’s suspicion that the child was male.

“On a boat, perhaps?”

“No.”

“On dragon back, then?”

“No.”

Peculiar and puzzling indeed.

“Are you alone?” Strosskar asked gently.

The child shook its head from side to side. “They want to take me, but Oskezzra won’t let them.”

Strosskar had not anticipated such a mystery. Clearly strange circumstances had brought the child here, but the matter seemed more sinister than he’d imagined.

“Is Oskezzra your kin?” Strosskar questioned.

The child shook its head again.

“A friend, then? A hisskezza?”

The boy nodded.

“Is he young like you or grown?”

“He’s big.”

“And the others who want to take you, how many are there?”

The child held up two fingers.

That was a relief, Strosskar didn’t like the idea of his island being swarmed by strangers, especially kidnappers.

“Are these others hisskezzas too?”

Another head shake. “They smell strange and wear black.”

This was a most disagreeable development. Hisskezzas were one thing, but other members of the noble or foul races on his island! That was another predicament altogether. He took a deep breath and searched the air for unfamiliar scents. Nothing. If the others the child mentioned were indeed on his island they were not in close pursuit of the boy. He looked again at the child. It was an impressive feat for such a small two legged creature to climb this plateau. Its tiny legs must be quite exhausted.“What’s your name, child?” Strosskar inquired.

“Kiraska.”

Stosskar eyed little Kiraska pensively. The boy’s vibrant red hair was disheveled and his tunic was smudged with dirt. It occurred to the dragon that he had no real obligation to assist this child and from the sound of it, getting involved would only lead to trouble. But what would Skianna have thought if he’d abandoned an innocent child to a murky fate?

Curious. He’d thought her name again, but this time it didn’t make him reel as it had earlier.

He had many more questions for the child, but he didn’t like the idea of remaining out in the open. If kidnappers were wandering the island, it would be best to go somewhere less exposed.

“Well young Kiraska, my name is Strosskar. We must of course search out your friend and figure out how to get you back home, but I daresay you must be tired and hungry. Will you accompany me back to my cave?”

“Is it a far walk?” the boy asked.

“It is, but we will fly.”

Kiraska’s eyes widened. “I don’t ride by myself. Not yet.”

Strosskar grinned, “Certainly not. Therefore I propose that I carry you in my claws.”

The little hisskezza’s brow furled into folds of scales as he considered the idea.

Stosskar let out a low chuckle. It was a peculiar sensation, for like speaking he had not laughed in a very long while. “It will be safe, hatchling. I promise. And we will feast on venison when we arrive.”

The prospect of a meal seemed to earn Kiraska’s approval and so he crept carefully toward the dragon.

Stroskarr delicately encompassed the small hisskezza in the claws of his right forearm, then launched himself into the air from his hindlegs.

Kiraska did not scream or cry out, but did cling to the dragon’s claws with all the might his little arms could muster.

Strosskar flew swiftly for the sun was sinking low, but kept a watchful eye trained to the land below, searching for any signs of activity. He’d nearly reached the slopes of the crater where his cave was located when he detected a fleck of darkness disappearing along the edge of the treeline. Strosskar dove toward the point where he’d seen the black. He landed heavily on three legs, still holding Kiraska aloft. He could no longer see the target, but he could smell him.

An armor clad figure emerged from the shadows. A human. He was tall and slender with soft pale skin and silver hair that contrasted with his dark hued apparel. He sauntered casually toward the dragon with a hint of amusement in his brown eyes. Strosskar had only met a few humans in his lifetime. He and Skianna had always preferred exploring the islands of Revvokk and had never been inclined to visit other kingdoms in Ardia. Therefore, the only humans he’d encountered were the rare ones who traveled to Revvokk.

“Greetings, dragon,” the man declared unabashedly. “I see you’ve done me the favor of finding my young charge. I am most grateful.”

“Your charge?” Strosskar asked. He did not care one bit for the man’s assuming tone.

“Indeed, his parents have entrusted him to me,” the man asserted.

“He’s lying,” yelped Kiraska, still securely enclosed within Strosskar’s claws.

“I’m no liar,” the man said calmly, he glared at Kiraska with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “The child does not accept the truth, and how can one blame him, he misses home, but he can not return.”

“That’s quite a claim,” Strosskar observed. “Do tell me, why would hisskezza parents place their son in your custody?”

The man smirked. “Simple. This child has a gift, a powerful one. I am bringing him somewhere he will be well looked after and his talent adequately nurtured.”

“If that’s so,” Strosskar said, “Then I’m sure you’d be able to explain how and why you are here on my island, for this is surely not your intended destination.”

“Quite right, we got off course and ended up here by mistake, but now that the boy has been recovered we will be on our way at once.”

“We. There are more of you?” Strosskar inquired, hoping to confirm Kiraska’s report of how many had accompanied him here.

“Just my assistant and I.”

Two. Just as the boy had said. “And where is your assistant now?”

The human sighed. “Can’t be sure, I’ve been searching for the child and he has his own problem to deal with before we depart.”

Strosskar had a hunch this other problem was the hisskezza that Kiraska had mentioned. “You said you went off course. I’ve seen no sailing ships on the shore. Where is your vessel?”

The man chuckled darkly. “We are no sailors, but we do have a vessel of sorts.” He grasped at a chain around his neck. an intricate talisman of precious metals and black stone appeared from beneath his tunic and breastplate.

Strosskar stepped back from the man, for he had seen something like this trinket before. The memory assaulted him viciously. Skianna’s scream echoed in his ears. And an image of the magic wielding he-ska that had slain her flashed before his eyes. It was a scene he had replayed many times, a final glimpse of the villain vanishing into a pool of light clutching his own talisman.

The memory flickered away and the man standing before him now was speaking again.

“We’ve exchanged enough words, dragon. Give me the boy and you will be free of us forever.”

Strosskar could feel his fire within flaring. “I will never surrender this child to the likes of you, sorcerer.” He took a step forward. His vision was turning red and puffs of smoke rose from his nostrils.

The human’s eyes flashed wickedly and he began to mutter unintelligibly.

Instantly, a whirlwind of pebbles, fallen leaves, and dirt spiraled up from the ground and encircled Strosskar and Kiraska. The dragon tried to maneuver out of it, but the cloud of debris roamed with him. Kiraska began to cough and sputter. Strosskar’s vision was obscured by dust and he was getting disoriented. He’d lost track of where the human was. Now there was a tugging force at his talons that clasped Kiraska, he tried to fight it but he could feel his grip slackening. He had to do something. He didn’t know where the sorcerer was to pinpoint an attack. If he tried to fly, he could lose what hold he had left on Kiraska. Time was running out, Kiraska was slipping away. He let his anger and panic loose, releasing a jet of flame out from his maw. Instead of fighting the whirlwind, he spun with it.

He heard a yell of surprise and fear, then the wind died. Stosskar closed his jaw, stopped moving, and blinked away the dirt from his eyes. He looked all around, but the human was gone.

Magic. That was how he’d escaped. And surely that’s how he’d brought Kiraska here. He could have gone anywhere and he could return any moment.

Stosskar looked down at Kiraska who was wiping dirt from his face. “Are you alright, child?”

The boy nodded and said, “You didn’t let him take me.” Presumably stating the fact for his own assurance.

“No, and I won’t,” Strosskar declared. “We need to leave quickly. Ready yourself.”

Kiraska gripped Strosskar’s claws with renewed vigor and Strosskar launched himself into the air.

At the base of the crater he snatched up an unsuspecting goat in his teeth, for now that he knew a sorcerer was on the island, he dare not leave the child alone to hunt. With their meal clenched in his jaw, he continued to rise until he was just below the brim of the crater ahead, then leveled out. After a few minutes gliding along currents of air, he was landing on the outcropping of rock that led to the entrance of his cave.

Strosskar dropped the goat onto the stone and then released Kiraska who stumbled a few steps before he got his feet under him. Strosskar had forgotten how wobbly the little ones were, he'd have to make sure the child didn’t wander too close to the edge. “This way,” Strosskar instructed, leading the boy into the cavern.

Kiraska looked around with wide eyes.

To the dragon it seemed quite cozy, but to small two-legged creatures it probably seemed massive. It was dry and comfortable, but sparse. Aside from a small collection of uniquely shaped lava rocks, a heap of firewood, and a bundle containing some of Skianna’s things that he couldn’t part with, the cave was empty.

“I promised venison, hatchling,” Strosskar said, “but goat meat will have to suffice. Shall we eat?”

“Yes, please,” Kiraska said excitedly. He patted his stomach. “My belly is as rumbly as a dragon.”

Strosskar chuckled. “We are a rumbly sort, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but not as rumbly as a volcano. That’s how rumbly Oskezzra’s belly gets when he’s hungry.”

“Ah, I see,” Strosskar remarked. “Well, let’s get some meat cooking and you can tell me all about Oskezzra.”

Strosskar snatched up a mouthful of wood from the heap and carried it just outside the cave’s overhang. He set the dried out limbs down and nudged them into place with his snout. He sucked in a shallow breath and released a jet of flame. The wood caught at once and a large fire blazed against the twilight.

Using his teeth and claws Strosskar managed to skin a decent number of small pieces of meat.

Kiraska eagerly speared one of the pieces with a stick from the wood pile. The child’s round golden eyes watched mesmerized as he dangled the meat in the flames. Once each piece was cooked he scarfed it down eagerly, the juices running down his scaly chin.

After the boy had roasted and eaten his fill, Strosskar devoured the rest of the goat meat raw.

They both stared into the flames for several minutes, then Strosskar gazed intently at Kiraska. Was the child really the beholder of some gift? If so, what kind of gift would attract the attention of a human sorcerer? Unless it was sorcery itself. Was he protecting someone who would grow up to be like he-ska that killed Skianna? A troubling thought. But maybe rescuing the child from these fiends would also save him from such a destiny.

“Do you know why these humans want you so badly?” Strosskar asked.

“They think I’m special.”

“Are you?”

Kiraska shrugged.

“Did your parents give you to the humans?”

“No. They made go with Oskezzra though. They said they couldn’t keep me safe, but that he would protect me.”

“Protect you from the humans?”

“From everything.”

Strosskar grunted. No one could protect someone from everything. He knew that better than most.

“Where are the humans trying to take you?”

“Somewhere bad. That’s what Oskezzra said.”

Strosskar hoped they could find Oskezzra alive. It wasn’t Kiraska’s fault, but Strosskar needed more information than a hatchling was able to provide.

He was about to ask more questions, but he noticed how far Kiraska’s eyelids were drooping. The child was exhausted. No more interrogating tonight.

He nudged the boy gently with his nose. “Time for you to get some sleep, let’s go inside. I’ll keep watch and in the morning we’ll search for Ozkezzra.”

The boy trudged beside Strosskar and once the dragon laid down, Kiraska curled up beside him. Strosskar lowered a wing over him and within seconds the child’s breathing grew slow and deep.

Strosskar watched the cavern opening, gazing at the dwindling fire until it was nothing but faintly glowing embers. He’d been considering what to do about the humans. At least one was a sorcerer, the other might be as well. How was he going to save Kiraska from ending up in their clutches? Only two courses of action seemed plausible. He would have to flee with Kiraska or he would have to kill the humans.

Killing sorcerers was not a simple endeavor. This he knew from experience, for he had searched long and hard for the he-ska that took Skianna from him. And each time he found him, the sorcerer slinked away through his magic portal and Strosskar would have to start again. Not to mention that he’d be putting Kiraska at terrible risk if he tried to attack this human sorcerer. They’d gotten away once, but the next time might end in disaster.

That settled it. They would search as long as they reasonably could for Oskezzra and then they would leave. There were many islands where they could seek refuge and too many for the humans to search them all.

The night grew long as Strosskar busied his mind with plans for their escape. The stars twinkled brightly in the patch of sky he gazed upon.

Suddenly a flash of light at the floor of the cavern entrance startled him. He prepared to leap to his feet, expecting the human sorcerer to be standing where the light had disappeared. But there was no one. And then he detected movement, but it was low to the ground. All at once the embers that had gone dark flared once more.

A pale form with bone colored hair that reflected the moonlight stood before him. It was another child, similar in size to Kiraska. A boy. A soft skinned human boy.

Once again he found himself blinking, trying to ascertain if he was dreaming.

“I apologize for disturbing you, noble dragon,” the child said in a penetrating voice. “But I had to speak with you.”

Strosskar stared in wonder at the child. It peered back at him with keen and unnatural intelligence. And as he studied the child’s form he realized he’d been mistaken, at least partially. The boy was not human, not fully. His ears were slightly pointed; similar to an elf’s, his eyes had a purple glow to them, and his skin was pure white. A halfling of some sort, not clearly belonging to a particular noble race.

“Who are you?” Strosskar asked.

“I am the one foretold, but tonight I come to foretell,” the child replied cryptically.

“Are you friend or foe to the human sorcerer who currently haunts my island?” the dragon questioned. The child had appeared as sorcerer’s do and that did not inspire trust.

“I assure you the men who seek the hisskezza child are no friends of mine,” the boy declared. “Ask your final questions, but know our time is brief. I cannot linger long.”

Strosskar was unnerved by the child’s authoritative tone, but he did as requested. “Have you come to help Kiraska? Do you mean to take him with you?”

“I am here to help you both, but it is only to you that I must speak for it is not yet the appointed time for my path and Kiraska’s to cross. Now listen carefully. Take Kiraska to the north beach at first light. When the sacrifice is made, you must take up the mantle. You will be his protector until he is yours. And in twelve years time you must return to the shores of Kezzanir. Your sorrow’s reign must end, for you will no longer fly alone.”

Strosskar felt shaken to the core and he trembled at the child’s words “Why do you speak in such riddles?”

“In matters of destiny plain speech breeds fear, while hidden meanings inspire hope.” the child said matter of factly.

“Who are you?” Strosskar asked again in awe.

The child smiled. “When we meet again. I will tell you. Until then be strong in heart, Strosskar Redscales. I must go. Dawn approaches.”

There was another flash of light and the child was gone.

Immediately the first hint of sunlight glowed on the horizon as the sky blushed pink. Should he heed the child’s advice? What would he encounter at the north beach? What sacrifice would be made? There wasn’t time to deliberate. Did he trust the halfing or not? He felt he must, whether he wanted to or not.

Strosskar lifted his wing and nudged Kiraska awake. “We must fly, little one. No time to wait.”

Kiraska yawned and blinked at him. “Are we going to find Oskezzra?”

“That is my hope,” Strosskar replied.

They made their way to the cliff's edge and Strosskar scooped Kiraska up in his claws. He took flight and flew with haste to the island’s northern coastline. He kept his eyes peeled for movement, but not sure what he should be looking for. Everything appeared calm. He was beginning to question whether the halfling had lied and led him into a trap.

Then a flurry of movement caught his attention. A human with sandy colored hair and black armor was chasing a hisskezza warrior along the beach. The hisskezza was limping and supporting himself with his curved sword, clearly wounded. Strosskar plummeted toward them.

As soon as he saw Strosskar, the human gave up his chase and tried to sprint toward the treeline. Unlike his companion, this human was afraid. Strosskar cut him off and with a flick of his tail sent the human tumbling onto the sand. Then he twisted back around and pinned the human down with the foreleg he wasn’t using to carry Kiraska.

The hisskezza warrior hobbled toward them. Stosskar understood why Kiraska’s parents had entrusted their child to this he-ska. His scaly skin was bulging with muscles and his flame red hair was braided back to accentuate his fierce countenance.

“Oskezzra!” Kiraska cried out.

Strosskar released the child onto the beach and he ran to Oskezzra who grabbed him into his arms and held him tight.

Strosskar smiled, then became serious once more, turning his attention to the human struggling beneath his foot. “Where’s the sorcerer?” Strosskar questioned.

All the man did was squirm. No muttering from this one, just an ordinary human with no magic.

“Looking for me?” a scathing voice asked.

The silver haired human had appeared before Strosskar, smirking widely. He chanted some phrases and before Strosskar could stop it Kiraska was jerked out of Oskezzra’s arms and flying through the air until the back of his tunic was securely in the sorcerer's grasp.

Oskezzra rushed forward with his blade aloft, but stopped abruptly when the man raised a dagger to Kiraska’s throat.

“What a fun game this has been,” said the sorcerer nonchalantly. “But I’m afraid it’s time for it to end.” He nodded toward the other human still struggling to free himself from Strosskar’s iron grip. “Let him go or the boy will learn the meaning of pain.”

Strosskar growled. He couldn’t blast the man without injuring Kiraska. He couldn’t let the sorcerer hurt the boy. But if he released his prisoner, the sorcerer would take them through a portal before they’d be able to get Kiraska away from him.

The sorcerer pressed the blade against the boy’s collarbone. “My patience is running thin, dragon.”

All at once Strosskar felt a searing pain in his foot. He roared and released the human who held up a bloody dagger. Then there was another scream of pain, but not from Strosskar.

Oskezzra had taken advantage of the confusion and lunged at the sorcerer. He’d caught him off guard and he plunged his sword into the man’s chest. The sorcerer dropped Kiraska then crumpled to the ground.

Kiraska scurried away and clung to Strosskar’s side.

The human who’d stabbed Strosskar’s foot screamed out in rage and sprinted toward Oskezzra and his fallen companion.

The human stabbed at the hisskezza, but Oskezzra parried his attacks with his bloodied blade. Oskezzra let out a savage cry and assailed the human with an onslaught of powerful swings. The human was no match for the hisskezza fighter, he managed to deflect a couple strikes but the third caught him the thigh. He fell to the ground and with a final stab Oskezzra stuck him through the heart.

Oskezzra stood for a moment breathing heavily then sunk to his knees, before falling back.

Kiraska bolted toward him and Strosskar followed.

The sand was stained red. The humans gazed vacantly at the sky.

Oskezzra’s breathing was labored. He was bleeding heavily from his leg and his side. He was strong, but he wouldn’t survive these wounds.

Kiraska clung to him, tears running down his cheeks.

“You fought valiantly, warrior,” Strosskar said to Oskezzra. “And your bravery saved Kiraska.”

“I nearly failed him back on Kezzanir,” Oskezzra choked. “They nearly got away with him. If I hadn’t grabbed hold of Kiraska’s tunic at the last second and been sucked into the portal with them, Kiraska would have been lost. It was my duty to protect him, it is an honor to die fulfilling that oath. Promise me, dragon, that you’ll look after him now that I cannot. He is important for the future of not only Revvokk, but all of Ardia”

The halfling had prepared Strosskar for this. He looked at Kiraska whose face was wrought with sorrow. Then he met Oskezzra’s urgent gaze. “You have my word. Rest knowing I will do all I can to protect him.”

Oskezzra sighed and a bit of blood trickled from his mouth. His time was coming. He reached a shaky hand to cradle Kiraska’s chin. “You must be brave, child. Your destiny is a dangerous one, but you must not lose hope. You must survive and grow strong.”

Kiraska nodded, not letting go of his friend.

Oskezzra’s eyes closed and after a few more shallow breaths, his chest stilled.

Stosskar waited until Kiraska’s tears ran dry, then nudged the boy gently. “Come, child. You must carry his memory with you always, but it’s time to let go of his body. I will carry him to the crater that simmers with liquid stone. A proper send off for a mighty hisskezza warrior.”

Kiraska sniffled and wiped at his cheeks. “And then?”

“And then we meet each day as it comes. I will return you to your people when the time is right. Surely you must be special, Kiraska. And more threats may come, but until then I think we should make some good memories to balance out the bad. As Oskezzra said, we can't lose hope.”

“And we have each other,” Kiraska said with a hint of a grin.

“Yes, we have each other,” Strosskar agreed. He stared affectionately at Kiraska. It was a wonder. He never thought he would care for another as he had cared for Skianna, but how quickly the world could change. And it made him happy to think of her smiling, for surely she was smiling somewhere, knowing his broken heart was finally starting to mend. “And together we will prepare ourselves for whatever comes next.”