This morning before school I walked out on my porch as the sun rose, it was… amazing. The fog was stretching up to the sky, the sun shone through the fog casting an iridescent, almost unreal, fantasy type setting. The whole sky seemed to glow in a hazy orange hue, especially in the eastern part of the horizon.
There was a lot of fog rising up from the pond, so much so that I could not see the actual pond; just a vague outline of what could have been a wide, deep chasm. With the sun shining reddish-orange through the thick fog as it lifted, fairylike, off the pond, I could almost imagine that I was seeing the entrance to a dragon’s lair. The fog, of course, was not fog at all; it was the steamy breath of the slumbering monster that lay within the unknown depths of the hazily outlined cavern.
The fog, if fog it was, was tinged with a fiery color and made the possibility of a dragon seem that much more real. I felt, as if by stepping out of my house this morning, that I had passed through another door entirely, and ended up somewhere completely different from my intended destination.
A shadow seemed to fall across the cavern and I could picture the dragon, rising up, fierce and powerful like the sun, out of the morning fog, and flying overhead: a blazing beast of light over the whole land. Then the fog cleared, the terrifying cavern became once again the idyllic, serene pond that I know so well. The sky turned its normal, clear blue, and the dragon, if dragon it was, became the fiery morning sun, content to travel through the sky, waiting for the time when he might rise again to meet the morning.
Thus "The Dragon's Eye" was born.
And now for the exciting tale of the enigmatic warrior that you came to know and love in the first book: the complete story of Brant's history and his journeys before he came to Aom-igh are revealed in the thrilling prequel "The Dawn of the Dragon's Eye: book 2 of the Tellurae Aquaous Series" coming to an online market near you in November 2005!
The Journey Begins
(exerpt from the next book in the trilogy)
“Young prince,” Sheyardin said in Old Kraïc, a language that was as beautiful as it was difficult.
“Yes, Master?”
“I have petitioned to have thee officially apprenticed to me.”
Rhoyan gaped in astonishment, “B-but I don’t even graduate to Kestrel for another three harvests!” His surprise made him fall back into Llayic.
“Pay attention,” Sheyardin snapped, “what wilt thou do if thine enemy surprises thee someday? Revert thyself to the play thou knewest as a child?”
Rhoyan cast his eyes down, “Thy wisdom is perfect, Sheyardin, forgive thy servant.”
Sheyardin nodded and his eyes twinkled slightly, “In answer to thy question: thine other tutors and I have deemed that thou art ready to advance.” Sheyardin stopped and grinned, falling, for the first time that Rhoyan could ever remember, out of the language of Archaic Proper, “That is really just a fancy way of saying that you have advanced beyond what they are capable of teaching you.”
“Master Sheyardin that cannot be possible!” Rhoyan protested, “You are so much wiser and more knowledgeable than I… you know so much more and you are so much older…”
Sheyardin laughed and reverted back into formal speech, “I said ‘they’ young prince. Although I will admit that thou hast learned more than I thought was possible for such a short time.”
Rhoyan flushed and looked down in embarrassment at the praise.
“Hand me thy sword,” Sheyardin commanded, “thou hast been acting as apprentice for some time now, but ‘tis best that we make it official.”
Rhoyan did as he was told. Sheyardin hefted the great blade and nodded.
“It is a good sword; thine Uncle Ramius hath a good eye for weapons. He chose this one well. It looks to be of Endalian craft.”
“Where is Endalian?” Rhoyan asked.
Sheyardin chuckled, “It never ceases to amaze me how eternally curious thy mind is, young prince. Endalia is west of here, very far west, beyond the lands of Aom-igh. Seldom doth anyone travel to their home, but often do they travel into lands that are not their own. They are a fine people, and they enjoy listening to the words of what goes on in the rest of the world. Not much is known about them, but their craftsmanship causes them to be welcome wherever they roam. They are known for their love of peace and their skill in crafting weapons: a contradiction in its finest form. But the odd combination allows them to enjoy both. Nobody will go to war with them because of their skill with weaponry, yet because they are so peace-loving and trustworthy everyone wants to trade with them for their weapons.”
Rhoyan smiled, “I would like to see that land,” he said wistfully.
Sheyardin gazed at the young prince, “Methinks thou wilt enjoy thine apprenticeship, traveling is one of the requirements.”
Rhoyan looked up excitedly, longing in his eyes, “Oh!” He spoke softly. “To set foot in the great palaces of Chensar! To see the forges of Endalia! To cross the great oceans and meet the creatures of the sea: the mermaids and the great Hydra!”
Sheyardin’s eyes twinkled and almost seemed to spark, “And with this sword at thy side thou wilt always have a loyal friend.”
Rhoyan nodded, “It is a good sword. It has no ornamental value, but that is because it is crafted so well. It has no added decoration, but I like it that way. Plain and simple and attempting to appear as nothing more or less than what it is. Like me.”
Sheyardin nodded curtly, “Good. It is a tool, young prince, remember that. The rich may use it to adorn their walls and the foolish may attempt to win honor with it. But it will not bring thee honor, and the work that thou doeth with it is not to be taken lightly.”
Rhoyan nodded a sober expression on his face, “I understand.”
Sheyardin straightened and cleared his throat, “Now, to business. Rhoyan of the House of Arne, son of the noble eagle, by the power entrusted to me as thy tutor and through the consent of thine other teachers, I raise thee to the rank of Kestrel and I accept thee as my apprentice. Dost thou accept the responsibility of this rank and position?”
Rhoyan nodded, “Yes, I Rhoyan of the House of Arne do accept the responsibility of my new rank and position. I will strive to serve my apprentice-master well and bring only honor to my name.”
Sheyardin held the blade out to Rhoyan, “I bestow upon thee this sword which thou hast practiced with as a child, but thou art a child no longer. In the eyes of thy people, thou art now neither child nor man. Before thou canst continue on thy journey into adulthood thou must speak the Oath of the Aethalons. Thou hast already memorized these words, as every child born in Llycaelon is taught to do, but now thou must say the words with a much deeper meaning. When thou swearest this Oath it canst never be broken, to turn thy back upon this Oath is to turn thy back upon thy people, thy country, and thyself. Do you understand?”
Rhoyan took a deep breath and nodded. A shiver of both fear and excitement flowed through him as he stared at the sword. He had both longed for and feared this day since he was a child, and now that it was here he almost could not believe that it was really happening.
“Hold out thy hand,” Sheyardin commanded.
Rhoyan held out his hand, knowing what was to come next and fearing it; however, this part of the Oath was to test his courage and so he neither flinched nor jerked his hand as the blade of his own sword cut deeply into his hand. The pain of the cut almost brought tears to his eyes, but he blinked them away and clenched his teeth. Then he straightened, his jaw squared and his chin lifted, there was a far-away look in his dark eyes as he repeated the age-old words of tradition. He had learned them long ago and he had enjoyed saying them at the time, but never had they meant so much to him. As he said each word he bound it to his heart, feeling the weight of them fully for the first time. The Oath was simple, not hard to remember, but to Rhoyan the words of it were beautiful and full of a great promise for the future.
“Courage, purity, truth, and honor. These things will I walk with and give my life to uphold, I swear this by my blood and by my sword.”
“See that you do so, young Kestrel, and none will rise to challenge thee on the day of thy rite of passage. Bind those words to thy heart and they will strengthen and protect thee,” Sheyardin said gravely. Then he smiled and handed back the sword, “Our lesson for the day is over. You have a week to pack your things.”
“Pack my things?” Rhoyan asked.
Sheyardin nodded, “We leave for Efoin-Ebedd in five days.”
Rhoyan’s eyes lit up, “The country to the east, Uncle Ramius has spoken of it. Their main industry is mining and precious metals.” His excitement trailed off, “But why are we going there?”
“I have work to do, I have tarried here long enough to teach thee what thou needst know in order to come with me. Thou art now ready and thou shalt accompany me and learn all that I deem necessary for thine education to be complete. Thine apprenticeship is begun.”
