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Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5 Read online




  Dragons of the Dawn Bringer

  The Goddess Prophecies Book 5

  Araya Evermore

  Contents

  Join My Raven Guild

  Title

  Map of Maioria

  1. Eye of Betrayal

  2. Lifting Curses

  3. Swords and Armour

  4. Council of War

  5. Meeting the Trinity

  6. Fire and Water

  7. Feygriene's Pool

  8. Portal to the Stars

  9. Seer Training

  10. Elven Fall

  11. Elf in Limbo

  12. Tree Whisperer

  13. Orb of Earth

  14. Worlds of Dominion

  15. Orphinius

  16. The Calling

  17. Teramides

  18. Interdimensional Metaphysics

  19. Temple of Sacrifice

  20. Karalanth Army

  21. Bear Rider

  22. Dark Light

  23. Queen Thora

  24. Sacrifice

  25. Four Horsemen

  26. Ruling the Dark Rift

  27. Loyal Men

  28. Venosia

  29. Demon Magic

  30. The Dawn Bringer

  31. Gathering Armies

  32. Finding the Navadin

  33. Dragon Vengeance

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  Raven Guild Newsletter

  Raven Guild FaceBook Group

  Next in the Series

  About Araya

  Also by Araya Evermore

  Acknowledgements

  Glossary

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  FOR LOVE

  1

  Eye of Betrayal

  THE great cry of a dragon awoke Morhork.

  He felt a terrible wrenching then the shutting off of something valuable, the loss of something precious.

  Faelsun, he thought, lifting his head as a chill swept through his body. In the Recollection, a thousand dragon souls cried out in pain and mourning, and then fell silent.

  Faelsun was gone. That knowledge was as real as the ground beneath his feet. The wrenching away of his brother’s soul made him tremble. How could it be? What had happened?

  He’d spent millennia hating his brother and thinking up ways to kill him—to feel his death now left him shaken, his feelings in turmoil. His brother—the one who had sided with the humans and fought against him, the one who had ripped the wings from his back, and thus his power, strength and birthright as a dragon. His brother who had been nurtured by the same mother and had shared the same nest thousands of years ago.

  Gone forever.

  But what about the Dragon Dream? He swept his mind through the Recollection and closed his eyes, overcome with powerful, confusing emotions.

  Gone and lost forever. If the Guardian of the Dragon Dream dies, then so too, the dream. The shared dream of dragons—their glorious realm and safe haven—did not exist without the dreamer. The world had changed and would never be the same again.

  Out there in the wilderness, Morhork felt the dragons stir, their minds lifting a little from their nightmares. Even in the dream state, they would never be able to enter the Dragon Dream again. Should he return to the world and try to help in some way? Perhaps he could awaken them fully and bring them back to Maioria.

  No. The last time he, a dragon, got involved with the world of men it had cost him his wings. He wanted no part in it, not even now.

  ‘Not yet, my brethren and sistren. The world of man still rules. Our time is not now,’ he said, sending his thoughts to them to soothe them. The dragon minds settled then slipped back to sleep.

  Morhork decided to do the same, forcing the immense sorrow and anger away. Such emotions confused him. There was no point being a dragon in this world ruled by humans. His human form was already far more effective, even if he used it only to keep a check on what was happening.

  He lay back down in the cold darkness of the cave and shifted his great bulk amongst the dust and bones. This cave in the cliffs above a thick ice flow was deep, and at its end were the ancient bones of two dragons.

  Not all dragons who went into hibernation survived. But it was not a bad way to go. The bones crumbled under his feet, reminding him how old they were. He curled up on top of them, sighed, and sought a deep and long sleep away from this world ruled by men.

  A world now with one less dragon in it.

  The stoic, gleaming towers of Castle Carvon shone through the black smoke billowing far below.

  Apart from a blackened crumbling section to the west, the city and its walls were unblemished, strong and whole amidst the destruction.

  ‘Look, the city still stands!’ Issa cried above the rushing wind, her heart leaping for joy as she gripped Asaph’s golden claw, the wind whipping her hair about her shoulders.

  ‘They tried but failed to take Carvon. The heart of the Free Peoples still beats strong,’ Asaph rumbled, angling his wings to slow their pace. The smoke came not from a razed city, as they had feared, but from the forest beyond.

  Asaph dropped lower towards the ballooning smoke concealing the ground and any enemies that might be there. She felt his muscles tensing for attack and gripped the pommel of her sword. They’d only had a few hours’ rest and a meagre amount of food before returning to the city at war and her muscles were still sore.

  ‘They’ve pushed the enemy back. Now the people are trying to put out the forest fires,’ Asaph said, his far superior dragon vision picking out through the stinging smog what she couldn’t see.

  The smoke cleared briefly allowing her to glimpse beneath it. Around the lake where she had first called the boatman was utter devastation. Great swathes of trees were snapped and flattened, the forest floor was blackened and the lake was grey with ash.

  A thousand-strong city folk were frantically filling buckets, pots and pans with the dirty lake water and passing it between them to hurl upon the flames. As Asaph swooped low, many dropped their buckets and froze, trembling in dragon fear. Some at the forest edge ran away screaming.

  Ignoring the people, Asaph hovered above the flames and beat his wings furiously. People flattened themselves against the ground to avoid being blown away and the trees bent over with the force of his gusts. Under his onslaught, the flames were driven down to the ground and extinguished, leaving a smouldering, charred forest.

  Struggling onto their knees, the people burst into cheers and raised their hands. Issa laughed and waved down at them. Asaph lifted into the air.

  ‘Where’s the front line?’ she asked, straining to see where Carvon’s soldiers might be. ‘And where are the Dread Dragons?’

  ‘Maybe they’ve pushed them back,’ said Asaph and turned to the west.

  After a fast mile Issa spotted something. ‘There!’ she shouted and pointed into the faded distance where more smoke billowed above the trees. Black shapes flew in the sky.

  Asaph slowed, his heart beating faster. ‘Dromoorai. But they’re retreating,’ he said, flying cautiously forwards.

  ‘Let’
s go after them and hunt them down,’ Issa growled.

  After a moment, Asaph said, ‘As much as I want to, we should regroup with the others for a conjoined attack. There are too many.’

  He was right. No matter how much she wanted to chase them across Frayon and into the sea, her revenge would have to wait.

  ‘Look. The others have stopped too,’ she said, spying the glinting armour of hundreds of tiny figures in the distance.

  Asaph picked up the pace, covering the miles fast.

  At the edge of the tree line where the forest gave way to grassland and craggy fields, the king’s army massed. Pikes bristled and pennants thrust proudly into the sky. Many were covered in dirt and stained in blood.

  The halted army stood apprehensively before a strange purple haze that billowed over the ground some fifty yards in front of them, weapons drawn and at the ready. No one dared enter it.

  Feeling the soft buzz of magic, Issa searched for the source. There, on a high point behind the frontline and surrounded by soldiers, stood several wizards in their purple robes holding their staves aloft.

  ‘Freydel! Thank the goddess,’ she breathed, spotting him amongst the others.

  Even from this distance he looked aged and hunched with exhaustion. His new crystal staff shone blue in the light and it pulsed with magic. It was alluring, transfixing her gaze, and she wondered where he had got it from, having never seen such a thing of beauty in his study.

  Beside him stood all other members of the Wizards’ Circle and the Flow pooled thickly around them as the wizards drew upon it to work their magic. As Asaph neared, she could feel the crackle of their magic in the air.

  Finding a clearing a short distance behind the army, Asaph landed, set her down, and changed from his dragon form into a man swiftly in an effort to avoid spreading dragon fear.

  They made their way through the forest, clambering over fallen trees, brambles and ferns until they found the main track. All along the path wounded soldiers lay. Physicians and healers tended them wrapping bandages around wounds and setting splints to broken bones. Some soldiers lay permanently still and white sheets covered them completely.

  Issa’s heart became heavy.

  ‘Look, there’s King Navarr,’ said Asaph, touching her arm.

  Through the crowds of milling soldiers, she saw the king of Frayon. He was encased in chainmail and shining plate armour; even his cowl was made of chainmail held in place by a simple gold circlet.

  As they neared, the king walked towards them, a determined smile on his soot-streaked, blood-smeared face. There were also smears of blood and dirt on his tabard. He was not a king afraid to fight with his men. His soldiers parted to let him through and bowed slightly as he passed.

  ‘They’ve retreated—for now,’ King Navarr said, his hard grin deepening. He gripped Issa’s shoulder and slapped Asaph on the back, which Issa noted surprised Asaph as colour touched his cheeks. ‘We’ve sent several units and a routing party to chase them back as far as they can. Led by Sir Marakon, of course.’

  ‘Thank the goddess he’s all right,’ said Issa.

  ‘It’s been a long, vicious fight and I don’t think it’s over yet, but the enemy haven’t managed to set up bases close, so eventually they’ll have to retreat back to the coast with us harrying them all the way.

  ‘As always, they knew exactly where to strike and when we were least prepared for it. With those bastard Dromoorai, they’re able to hit hard and fast whilst we watch shaking in our boots. I did not expect to see Carvon still standing, but then I refused to imagine it falling, too.

  ‘Scouts report that the north-west coast is lost, but we’ll do all we can to drive them from our shores.’ King Navarr’s jaw clenched.

  With a caw, Ehka swooped low and landed at Issa’s feet. Laughing, she crouched down and stroked her raven guardian. ‘I knew you’d be all right,’ she said, but still she worried for his safety whenever there was a battle that drove him from her side.

  The big black messenger bird of Zanufey crowed softly, clearly glad to be with her again where he could protect her.

  Issa glanced up at Asaph. ‘What do you reckon? Should we help Marakon?’

  He shrugged and looked to the west, hand resting on his sword pommel. ‘I guess there’s no point hiding anymore. Everyone and Baelthrom now know there’s a Dragon Lord still alive.’

  They were back in the air within the half hour and following Ehka. After five miles or so, the raven squawked and dropped down into the trees. Asaph flew lower and Issa glimpsed soldiers running through the forest with their familiar gold shield on red Feylint Halanoi tabards. Ahead, a mob of Maphraxies fled. Their guttural grunts and clanging black iron armour sent shivers down her spine.

  Asaph ploughed into the unsuspecting Maphraxies as they emerged from the trees and blasted them with flames. Inhuman, gargled howls filled the air and an acrid smell assaulted Issa’s nostrils. They did not burn easily and it took all Asaph’s blue fire and another pass to incinerate them.

  Those not incinerated scattered, their flesh smouldering. Asaph struck a claw down through the trees, catching one. It gave a sickening squeal as he clenched. He dropped the crushed body and lifted up. Issa heard the Feylint Halanoi cheering below.

  ‘Look, there are more.’ Issa pointed to another horde of black shapes running through the trees; Maphraxies, foltoy and death hounds. ‘They’re retreating, but if we let them go now, we’ll only face them again in the future.’

  ‘This enemy knows no mercy,’ rumbled Asaph. ‘But we don’t want to follow them into a trap.’

  ‘Then let’s stay close to the soldiers,’ said Issa. ‘We’re stronger together.’

  The ground below turned rocky and a ravine loomed ahead making it difficult to get close enough to flame the rest whilst flying.

  Asaph made a tight landing on a huge, jutting rock surrounded by tall evergreens ahead of the advancing soldiers. Setting her down on the flatter section, he changed form in a sparkle of air. Issa watched in awe as the light surrounded him and then a man stood there in the place of an enormous dragon. Her change into a raven seemed far less glamorous, she thought.

  Together they ran through the trees to meet the routing party. They found the soldiers paused at the entrance to the ravine.

  ‘We’re friends,’ Asaph called out as they emerged from the forest holding up their hands.

  A hundred weary, blood and grime-smeared faces stared back at them and lowered their weapons. They’d been fighting all night, Issa realised. The soldiers relaxed and took to settling on the grass and patches of bare rock. She searched for Marakon amongst them and finally found him with Bokaard surveying the ravine.

  The big Atalanphian slapped her back and Marakon squeezed her shoulder. The half-elf commander had lost the eyepatch he usually wore to cover his old wound. Instead, he had wrapped a piece of cloth around his head to hide his white eye as he’d not had time to find or make another. Marakon shook Asaph’s hand and gave a slight bow of respect.

  ‘It’s good to finally meet the last Dragon Lord,’ he said, eyeing Asaph.

  Bokaard nodded, deep respect in his eyes as he looked at the Draxian.

  ‘Issa’s told me a lot about you,’ said Asaph. ‘That you were once a great king and beloved leader. In this life, you are the best the Feylint Halanoi has to offer and I’d be honoured to join your knights.’ Asaph returned the bow.

  ‘The honour would be all mine, Sir Dragon Lord. But perhaps we can wait until after the battle?’ Marakon grinned and slapped his shoulder.

  ‘Are you going after the Maphraxies?’ asked Issa, peering over the edge into the darkness of the ravine.

  ‘No. Here we rest. We’re all too tired and now spread too thinly. There is only this entrance to the ravine which we can guard easily enough. We’ll rest here and set up camp when the supply team catches up. We need at least two more fresh units to harry the enemy further.

  ‘They took a lucky strike at our heart to shake us up a
nd let us know they could. It worked. Whether we can push them off Frayon’s north-west coast remains to be seen. Do not relax your guard. This fight is not over yet.’

  Issa helped tend and heal the injured while Asaph cleaned and sharpened weapons as the army prepared the camp. Apart from a foltoy hurtling into their midst and being felled in a hail of blades, nothing else attacked them.

  At dusk, the supply units finally caught up with them, bringing much-needed food, water, bandages and blades. Soon, tents, campfires, and the delicious smell of cooking filled the forest.

  Being on the early bed schedule for night watch, Issa found herself restless and sleep far away. From the rustling sounds beyond the fabric of her tent, so was the rest of the unit she camped amongst. It wasn’t easy getting to sleep knowing your enemy was near and could strike at any time.

  Asaph seemed to be doing all right, however. His chest rose and fell steadily as he slept on a rough blanket next to hers. They were fully clothed and armoured in leather as ordered. Not that she minded; it was too cold to sleep with any less on.

  Shifting a dozing Ehka beside her, she got out of bed, picked up her sword, and tiptoed out of the tent, heading towards the latrine.

  Marakon sat beside the campfire and looked as if he, too, was having trouble sleeping. He glanced up at her and nodded. She nodded back, but the gaze of his unbound white eye made her shiver and something about it made her want to get away as fast as possible. He must have sensed this for he dropped his gaze.

  Issa turned away, feeling confused. She had nothing but the deepest respect and awe for Marakon but his eye filled her with dread.

  It was dark and still in the forest. Only the light of the campfires behind barely lit her way. The air was cool and the moonless night sky filled with stars. She walked along the freshly cut path to the river winding between clusters of beech trees. The water was dark and slow moving and very deep.

  She bent down between the ferns and splashed cold water on her face, wishing she could have a long hot bath. At least the water was cool and refreshing so she took several gulps to invigorate herself.