Dragon Clans B. 02

Chapter 1

The final soulful note of the bagpipe lingered in the air long after the piper's breath had left the instrument. Its full rich tone reverberated off the ancient stone monoliths, wrapping those few in attendance within its comforting and sorrowful embrace.

A light rain swirled in the air, blown by the cool wind that gently caressed the emerald green plain. No one noticed the cool clammy feel of the morning. It could not compete with cloaking sorrow that enveloped those gathered to witness the last journey of a man who lived well. Whose absence would be felt by those who knew him.

"Ian was my friend for more years than I care to remember."

Nigel began as the final note from the bagpipe finally became lost in the breeze.

Standing before the entrance to the ancient burial mound, ringed by nine, thirty-foot slabs of time-weathered limestone, Nigel looked weary. His left arm, in a sling was crossed over his chest. His right hand gripped the handle of an oak cane that steadied him, required due to the cast on his right leg. His hand flexed on the cane, gripping it tightly, his knuckles turning white under the pressure as he continued.

"I have spent the better part of my life, the best part of my life, at Ian's side. Through good times and bad, through danger and joy we tried to do what we felt was right. Tried to make the world a better place."

"Ian left this world better than he found it. He was a man of numerous talents. His most endearing and important was his ability to bring joy to those around him."

"Across the world there are testaments to his desire to help humanity. They are too numerous and wide spread to even begin to list. Suffice it to say that wherever Ian went he tried to help those he encountered."

"My life and the lives of those who knew him will be smaller with his passing. For all of his accomplishments, on this day I simply mourn the loss of my friend."

Nigel looked down at Ian's body, covered by a white burial cloth. The silk shifted in the wind, the golden figure of a dragon emblazoned upon it moved as if it were about to take wing.

'How did it come to this mate,' Nigel thought as he slowly moved aside to stand a moment next to Millie.

Millie placed a light hand on Nigel's shoulder, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek before stepping to the moss covered granite door of the chamber.

She paused here, not looking at the white-cloaked form before her, but instead letting her eyes travel over the few people in attendance. Valerie was weeping softly as she stood next to Michael.

Ian's death, his sacrifice, had caused her so much pain. Millie's heart went out to her niece, but she knew that Michael and Tera would take care of her, that she would, with the passage of time, come to grips with the pain, understand the sacrifice her uncle had made.

Michael had his arm wrapped around Valerie's shoulder, holding her close to him. His gaze was fixed on the horizon. His strong rugged features seemed older. As if what he had gone through in the last few days had changed him. Becoming more intense, more focused, more comfortable in his own skin. He exuded a calm powerful presence that was the counter point to the pain she found in his eyes.

'So much for one person to take on,' Millie thought as she took a deep breath closing her eyes.

"Ian is the love of my life." Millie began.

"He encompasses the best most noble things about us as a race. I have seen Ian in the middle of crisis stop everything he was doing to comfort a child and help them find their mother."

"I have seen him laugh as he was caught in an unexpected rain storm."

"I have felt his tears flow hot against my skin when faced with a horror found too late to stop."

"Ian was my best friend, my lover, my confidant, my playmate, my foil. Never have I encountered a man so completely and utterly whole. I will carry him with me always and look forward to the moment that we will be reunited."

"Do not mourn his passing, it is not what he would want. Better that we should live our lives by his example. Ian always found the joy in every moment, every challenge. He lived his life with love and passion. If all of us who knew him do the same, then we shall, with every moment we refuse to let slip by unnoticed, honor him and keep his spirit alive."

Millie's hand came to gently rest upon Ian's forehead beneath the cloth. She stayed there for a long moment, which drew out as the wind began to pick up. Her countenance was one of stoic strength. Few noticed the way her hand trembled as it lay upon on her fallen one.

"I love you."

She whispered, the words caught and taken by the breeze as she took a step back and then walked to Valerie's side.

Valerie's sobs increased as she moved from Michael into Millie's arms. The women holding onto each other, feeling the others loss along with their own.

Michael shifted his head to place a light kiss on Tera's cheek as his hand slid within hers. They walked slowly towards the body, splitting up to stand at the back corners of the rough-hewn litter which held Ian's remains.

Nigel walked over to Valerie and Millie, lending his presence and strength to both as two older men detached themselves from the crowd, moving to the front of the litter.

A single note issued from the bagpipe, as the four bearers lifted their charge gently, and walked towards the dark rectangle before them. Michael looked down at the body, the silk moving like liquid between the breeze and the motion of the litter.

His eyes came to rest on the form of the golden dragon as they carried Ian into the earth to rest with those who had preceded him down through the ages.

As they penetrated the shadowy interior of the crypt, Michael found himself brought back to his moment of revelation a few days prior under the maze. ............... The smile on Michael's face faded a bit as his hand slipped from the golden scales.

'A psychotic break, that must be it', Michael thought as he stared into the depths of the emerald eyes that regarded him with a mixture of concern and happiness.

Sitting down hard on the cool stone at the edge of the lake Michael ran his fingers through his hair shaking his head.

'The funeral, it must have been at the funeral, I just lost it completely, I'm in a hospital ward somewhere in restraints.'

'I hope they are keeping me shaved, I hate beards,' he thought idly as he watched more of the being before him revealed as she rose from the water.

The long powerful neck.

Full broad chest that flared at what would be called shoulders to iridescent wings that stretched up towards the ceiling of the cavern.

Muscular arms at the side of the chest looking strong, powerful, the size of tree trunks ending it five lethal looking talons.

Receding towards the Island, Aoife climbed nimbly up onto the sandy bank. The water cascaded off of her. Her body glowed, shimmering in the dancing firelight of the torches as she turned. Regarding him, she lowered herself to the sand, curling her tail around her body as she did so.

They held each other's eyes for a long time. The air in the cavern motionless except for the slightest warm tendrils that reached Michael's face, gently caressing him, every time she exhaled.

"You have not gone crazy."

Aoife's statement reverberated around the chamber. Its tone was deep, comforting like a warm blanket on a cold morning.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one seeing mythical creatures."

Michael's tone was not playful; it held a manic edge that gave Aoife pause before she continued.

"Most myths have their foundations in truth Michael."

"I am what I am. I have been so, since my birth, eight millennia ago. I cannot change my nature. I can change my form into many things. I can provide you an illusion that would be less shocking. I have done this in the past with those chosen to continue my line. They were not as strong as you, did not face the types of challenges you do.

"You are strong enough to understand this, Michael. Strong enough and open enough to allow for the potential of my truths. This is why you see me as I am, with no window dressing. Simply me as I have been for thousands of years. I understand that it is a shock for you. No matter what form I take, it is always a shock to the chosen once they understand who I am, and what their own lineage is."

Aoife paused.

Michael shifted uneasily under her gaze as he watched her across the once again placid surface of the water.

She was beautiful, regal, radiating an effortless power that begged the question what kind of power was actually contained within her should she find the need to place effort behind it.

"How is it possible?" Michael began as he straightened a bit, finally starting to get somewhat of a handle on the events that were unfolding.

"People would know. You are not exactly what I would call subtle. Over the past 100 years we have been everywhere, looked everywhere if there were dragons they would be known."

Michael was frustrated. While he maintained a healthy allowance that the world held many wonders, this was just a little much to take. A chuckle echoed around the cavern before Aoife answered.

"Michael, we are... due to our age, alone... sedentary creatures, now. Gone are the days when thousands of our kind roamed the earth. I lingered in my den for over three hundred years before coming back to this place."

"Once we came together in groups, had a society, struggled for power and honor and status as your kind does. But that time is long past."

"Today there are only nine of my kind left. The most powerful, or the wisest, or those with the most knowledge, are all that remains of the original nine dragon clans.

"Each clan gathered together when we finally accepted that the time of our dominance had passed. Being creatures born to great power... and the ego to match it... this acceptance took ages in coming. By the time of the great clan gatherings there was only a handful of each clan remaining."

"One was chosen to be the progenitor or liege of the clan. The selected received the ultimate gift, from the ultimate sacrifice of the others. We took in their ancient power and strength and knowledge. We became more than any of our kind before us. However, in doing so, we sacrificed any chance for the future of our race, alone."

"As far as I know, I will never cease to be. My form may change, there may come a time when nothing will rouse me to motion. But my life energy, my soul if you will, continues. It expands and grows through the ones we choose to be vessels for our power, moving us into a new age."

"The details are not important. We came together and made a decision. A decision that would ripple across the surface of eternity. Our race was done, but we did not wish to slip gently into the night. We made a pact, set down rules, chose ones from the new race that were strong. Ones who would carry on and proliferate our essence."

"The clan lieges spread out across the world, looking for those of your kind that meshed with their own beliefs and philosophies. This was four thousand years ago. Humanity was starting to create stable societies, work together, war together, learn and evolve together. Our hope was that all that we had been, all that we were, could be passed on. We hoped that we could continue, and be of some help to the race that would come to dominate the planet."

Aoife paused here. Unfurling her wings they stretched up and out over the lake.

Once again Michael was simply stunned by the sheer beauty and wonder of the creature before him.

The story sounded plausible, sounded as if it were truth. But then didn't psychotics believe their delusions to be truth with an unwavering vehemence?

Aoife growled and exhaled sharply in Michael's direction. He was caught off guard as the strong warm blast hit him, almost knocking him over.

"I grow weary of being thought an illusion," Aoife growled. Her emerald eyes flashing. With a sigh Michael stood up.

"I'm sorry Aoife, it is just very hard for me to take so much in." Michael said as he stretched his arms over his head. It had been a long day and it seemed there was little chance of it ending anytime soon.

Aoife's stance softened.

"I know young one, I am sorry as well, I have been waiting for you a very long time. The wait seems to have left me a bit impatient."

Aoife settled back to the sand as she continued her story.

"So, we all found humans that we would... sponsor. These first ones were given some of our spirit. In doing, they took on some of our traits."

"The chosen, as they have come to be called, were stronger, faster, smarter and longer lived than normal humans. Depending upon the clan, they also took on other of our abilities. To see the future or the past, look into others thoughts, manipulate the material world. The first of the chosen remained at the head of their human clans for many centuries. They traveled much, spreading the seeds of their unique gift."

"The leadership of a clan is not a right of birth, but a consequence of genetics. As the chosen traveled and had children the gift spread out from them. Most often it was dormant, or not strong enough to hear the call. But sometimes, usually once every three to four hundred years, one was born that was strong with the gift. I am sure one of the other clans, Ryujin's probably, could give you the statistics. Anyway, one would be born with the right talents, they would be...pulled to find one of my kind and become the new leader of the clan."

"What happens to the old clan leaders?" Michael asked. He had begun to pace on the small stone landing.

"They continue. Once one is chosen there is no going back. Understand, they are not immortal, just hardier than a normal human. Catastrophic injuries, explosions, prolonged submersion and... other things... can kill a chosen."

Aoife was about to continue but Michael started talking first.

"That man used something to kill Ian. The injury was dire but if what you say is true then he should have survived it. From the look of it he was dead almost instantly. So there must be some way, other than being thrown from the top of big Ben, to kill a chosen?"

Aoife shook her head slowly. He was quicker than any she had encountered before. Tapping a claw on one of the large boulders on the island she continued.

"There is another way. As I have told you there are nine dragon aspects that make up the clans. When the pact was made it was obvious that disputes would arise between the families we chose. The aspects themselves gravitated to sides best described as order and chaos. As is the case with most things in the universe a balance was struck."

"Four of the clans on one side, four on the other. Leaving one aspect not biased towards either. This clan became the sentinels of our kind. The watchers and in the end the judge when things came up that were un-resolvable through any other means."

"The eight of us agreed that this ninth house would be neutral. That they would be the final arbiters in disputes that concerned the two sides, be it between we dragons or the clan leaders we chose."

"To this ninth house was given a talon from each of the eight. Being part of us, it would have the power to destroy the gift in a leader, transferring that power to the neutral house until such time as it could be given to another of our line."

"This has only happened three times since the beginning of the pact. Twice on the side of order, once on the side of chaos. Each time, the ninth house called a gathering of the clans. Each time there was a consensus before the action was taken. And each time the clan matriarch or patriarch chose a successor prior to the action being taken. This ensured that the power was transferred to the next chosen as quickly as possible."

Aoife paused, her eyes closing as if the remembrance of such things took a great deal of energy to get through. Michael felt her worry and struggle, but also knew that this was important and that he needed to know the whole story. He waited, watching as she composed herself before continuing.

"Ian was wonderful leader of the clan. He always found himself to be somewhat lacking but it was not the case. Nicholas used my talon to kill Ian. His intention was not to just kill him, but to take his power, my power as his own."

"I have tried to reach out to the ninth clans matriarch with no success. You must understand that Nicholas having my talon can only mean that the ninth has been turned from its neutral stance. This imbalance is incredibly dangerous and something that none of my kind even considered to be possible."

Michael stood silently, letting the full understanding of what the implications would be sink in. Sitting on the edge of the stone wall once again, feet hanging over the water, he asked the next logical question.

"Why didn't this Nicholas get the power, if it truly was your talon shouldn't he have instantly received Ian's gifts?"

Aoife regarded Michael for a few seconds before lithely slipping into the lake making her way towards him. Her head broke the surface of the water at his feet, rising to where she was eye to eye with him. The emerald unblinking orbs captured him. He became lost within their ancient depths for a moment before she blinked and broke the spell.

"Ian had already passed on the majority of the gift to you. Since arriving in Nogardshire you have been feeling the effects of the transference. Ian did not accomplish this all at once. It was a gradual thing as he became more and more sure that Nicholas was coming for him. The last bit of the power, the key as it were, he returned to me this morning before his encounter with Nicholas."

Michael stood quickly, a heated rage washing over him as he now looked down at Aoife.

"You knew. YOU KNEW!"

Michael's yell reverberated off the cavern walls. It held a power and rage that seemed magnified by the surroundings.

Aoife did not answer immediately. She simply raised her eyelid in surprise at being yelled at. It was something that rarely occurred. It was just one more thing that set Michael apart from those that had come before him.

Raising her head up to his level once more, she continued.

"We are not pre-sentient Michael. We do not know what the future will hold any more than you do."

"With eight thousand years of experience are our guess's more accurate than yours? To be sure. However, until an event actually takes place there is always the opportunity for free will to intervene. It was Ian's wish that I did not. I know some of the reasons why, others were his alone. In any case, Ian has passed from this life. This leaves you as the heir to the throne as it were. As with all things, the choice is yours to accept the mantle or not.

Michael stood watching her for a long time. All of the ease and hope he had found last night with Tera and Valerie seemed to be evaporating around him.

Either he had gone insane and none of this was real. Or everything that Aoife had told him was the truth.

Neither option did much to alleviate the weight which he now felt squarely lay upon his shoulders.

"If all this is the truth, if I have fallen down the proverbial rabbit hole. What is next, what is expected of me, when do I have to decide?

Michael's question had an air of resignation that Aoife did not understand or particularly appreciate.

"This is a gift Michael, not a curse. Are there responsibilities that come with being a chosen? Yes there are. Just as there are responsibilities in living life or finding love, or any of the other myriad acts that make us answerable or responsible to others."

"No one lives a truly solitary life Michael. All of us interact with others; all of us take on their burdens as our own in some shape or form. Am I asking you to be a normal man? No, most definitely not. But I am also not asking you to be any closer to normal than you already are. You are unique Michael. You have been since the moment of your birth. Every sentient being is."