章 45: Chapter 18: Dragons
Erbalartalanjir gazed into the storm. The false Lisandra, Skarswanga, asked the dragon to stay below, and she flew up on a huge snow argiphone to the upper towers of the castle. A flock of snow birds circled near the dragons but did not approach them. Skarswanga saw Ulli and Farum perched on one of the tallest and widest towers of the castle. The dragons barely had enough space for each other, but they waited for Skarswanga to fly up to them.
"My dinadam," Farumbirznaaks bowed, Ulli repeated after him.
The dragons did not know that there was a false half-goddess before them.
"I brought you a renegade," Skarswanga said, "but you shouldn't destroy his kilelkilaar, let him serve us for a good purpose!" Skarswanga said majestically. "He will lead us to other renegades, and then we will incinerate their souls and treacherous scaly bodies!"
"Yes, dinadam," Farum agreed.
"Then, fly to Erbalartalanjir and tell him that he is forgiven."
Farum took off instantly, and Ulli hesitated and decided to bow, "Dinadam," and he flapped his wings.
They landed almost instantly beside Erbalar. The north dragon continued to stare into the distant storm.
"You will be forgiven, Erbalartalanjir," Farum turned to him, "if you bring the rest of the renegades, and then we will consider making an alliance with the ermirians."
Erbalar was silent. A Skarswanga has flown in.
"What's troubling you?" She asked.
"Something is happening in the storm, I feel like... I can feel you, dinadam, you're in pain," said the white north dragon.
"The land you've burned is filled with pain, the ocean in the distance is filled with anger, you are a dragon, and you regret the senseless deaths, and you also think that you are in pain, but this is only a call of mind echoing in your soul."
"It must be so, my dinadam," agreed Erbalar, and he broke away from the stone surface and took off, "I will bring the renegades, and we will discuss a peace with ermirians," with these words he flew to the east.
Erbalar flew calmly, but a strange feeling did not leave him, he decided to make a detour when the islands were far away, he moved west, where the storm had already subsided. The dragon feel a half-goddess, because she was his mother. He flew on, overcoming the effects of the storm, and he saw a small island that rose in the middle of the sea, on which she, his mother, stood, along with a small snow argiphone. The burns on the left side of her face and left arm frightened him. The dragon flew up to her.
"What happened, marthedraar?" he turned to his mother.
"My son, don't worry about me. Tell me, Erbalartalanjir, how many more of my true children of the Talanjir clan have survived?" True Lisandra asked.
"Myself, Korinsilartalanjir and Lortartalanjir."
"And the other nine sons, where are they?" the mother worried.
"Furelak, Granskhel and Heskantalanjir died in a battle near Alaidaksinish, the army of Kaushmanashtoon was there... I don't know where the rest."
"Why I don't feel their deaths?" Lisandra asked herself, Erbalar bowed his head to her at that time, the snow argiphone did not like this and he took off. Lisandra looked at her son's huge head and lightly stroked the scales.
"I don't know, marthedraar, but I felt you in the storm, that's why I'm here. And the other askaldenfirst is completely different..."
"She's not an askaldenfirst!" cut off the half-goddess, "She is falsalvgudina! That's why you didn't feel any connection with her, even though you probably heard her. You thought she was just a strange mother, but she is not the mother of dragons at all."
"Falsalvgudina, a false mother," the northern dragon said. "And now the dragons will follow her…" He broke off and fell silent.
"Erbalar, I saw what you have done, the senseless killings, the destruction, the chaos... It pains me to see how my children believed in the oldenmesser lies!"
"Marthedraar, I no longer know where to look for the truth and what to believe. And I fear that even by killing the false mother, we cannot convince my brothers to follow the call of reason rather than the ancient runic manuscripts."
"Whoever wrote them wanted a war. And, my son, they will get a war, they just have no idea what kind!"
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