Shadow Dagger: Epilogue

Jon examined himself in the ornate golden plate as he waited patiently for his summons. He hardly recognized himself anymore. The plate was a show piece and hardly a substitute for a mirror, but it reflected his image well enough.

He ran his hand over his ridiculous golden hair and then tugged on his ponytail. His hair had grown in the past two years, down to his shoulder blades. Long hair was the fashion at the moment. And, of course, the unnatural golden hair marked him as a Citizen.

He patted the golden robe he wore, hoping he looked presentable enough. He thought he looked like a fool, personally, but appearances meant a great deal in the country of Tai'Sul.

Footsteps sounded softly on the marble floor. Jon turned, and nearly gaped open-mouthed in shock. A

La'fao

priest and his

La'shen

bodyguard walked briskly towards him, Jon's gift held securely in the grasp of the

La'fao

.

The fact that a

La'fao

priest, or Servant of the Light, and his

La'shen

, or Light Bearer, walked toward him was not what shocked him. It was the fact that this

La'fao

was the High Priest of the entire order, the most powerful man in Tai'Sul! The High Priest must have liked Jon's gift very much, indeed.

The

La'fao

and his

La'shen

stopped in front of Jon, who tried his best not to look too stunned. "Citizen," the High Priest said, his voice soft and almost musical.

Jon gathered his wits together and bowed low at the waist. When he rose back up, the High Priest's eyebrows were raised in surprise. His

La'shen

narrowed his eyes angrily, as though Jon had just insulted the High Priest of Tai'Sul.

"You do not grovel at my feet in worship?" the

La'fao

asked. Jon couldn't tell if he was angry or not.

Jon was not one to kneel. "You're not a god," Jon said simply.

The High Priest's eyebrows shot up even more. The

La'shen

growled angrily and raised his hand to the sword hilt sticking out over his right shoulder.

The High Priest raised his hand, his eyes locked on Jon's. The

La'shen

very reluctantly relinquished the grip on his sword.

"Indeed you're right, I am not a god. I merely serve one. Very wise of you, Citizen, to have made that distinction. Very few do."

"And some," the High Priest added, his gaze flicking to the

La'shen

beside him, "should do well to remember that."

Jon took the moment afforded him to study the High Priest and his Light Bearer. The High Priest appeared to be a man of middle age, his tan face quite smooth but for the crow's feet surrounding his eyes. His eyes were what set him apart. The irises glowed golden as they examined Jon, a faint hint of amusement sparkling there. His robe was more ornate than anything Jon had yet seen in this palace.

The High Priest was covered in a material that seemed to constantly flow around him. It was golden, of course, but was offset by designs stitched in white that swirled around his entire body.

The

La'shen

, on the other hand, was almost the complete opposite. He had a hard face, his beard dyed gold to match his hair. He wore a gold-plated breastplate over a coat of pure white. The upturned collar was colored gold and circled his neck. He wore white breeches with gold-colored boots.

He finished his impressive clothing with a long, white cloak edged in gold that covered half his body and attached to the right shoulder. It was held in place there with a gold medallion shaped like the sun.

But most importantly to Jon, he wore a magnificent sword over his shoulder. The sword was left unsheathed on his back. The blade seemed to be made out of some type of clear glass or crystal and looked razor shape.

The most extraordinary thing about the sword was the light boiling inside the clear blade. The light was muted, at the moment, but Jon had seen it blaze like the sun on a different occasion.

Even if the

La'shen

didn't accompany the High Priest, the medallion gave away his rank. This was the Captain of the elite

La'shen

guard, protectors of the

La'fao

and, most importantly, their god.

The High Priest's eyes and the Light Bearer's sword were two of the biggest reasons why it had taken Jon two years to get this far. The High Priest possessed some type of power that Jon didn't know. The rumors he had heard, though, gave him a vague idea of what that power was.

Jon had seen a different

La'shen

use that light sword several months before. Jon very much doubted he could have defeated the man in battle. Needless to say, Jon very much doubted he could have just strolled into this magnificent palace and left alive.

"I took no offense," Jon replied, bringing his attention back to the present. "I understand that your

La'shen

is sworn to uphold your honor."

The High Priest shrugged one delicate shoulder, a faint smile tugging his lips. "Calvus is entirely too protective, but he has saved my life on numerous occasions."

"I'm sure he has," Jon murmured, bowing his head in respect.

"So, Citizen," the High Priest continued, "I'm sure you were already quite nervous about your visit without the unexpected visit from the High Priest of Tai'Sul. I apologize if I startled you. I simply had to meet the Citizen that crafted this," he finished, holding up Jon's gift in the light.

The light in the hallway seemed to bounced off the gift, nearly blinding Jon with its golden glare. "You have honored me," Jon replied, bowing as low as he had when first introduced to the High Priest.

The High Priest's eyes held a begrudging admiration as he looked at the gift. "There's something about it...as though it contained something that..." He trailed off, his golden eyes scanning the gift restlessly.

Jon suppressed a nervous shiver. He had used his magic to craft that piece. If the High Priest shared a similar power, he would shortly know. He prepared to seize his magic just in case.

But the High Priest's power must differ greatly from Jon's, for he sighed suddenly. "A very fine gift indeed," he whispered, lowing the gift and cradling it to his body. "I don't believe I've ever seen its like. The craftsmanship...and the materials! Business must be great, indeed. Still, this had to cost you most of your fortune."

"It did," Jon lied. Though he would have never guessed how rare and expensive gold was in this country. Gold was a mark of status, and as such, supply was heavily regulated and prices were set at a level that only the very rich could afford.

"When were you elevated?" the High Priest asked suddenly.

"Six months ago," Jon replied smoothly. He hoped he didn't inquire as to how Jon acquired that much gold to craft his gift.

"Remarkable," the High Priest said, his eyes locked directly on Jon's. "Ever since you set up shop two years ago, your name has been on the tongue of the most powerful Citizens and peasants alike. Jon Crews, the Golden Artisan. The man who can take your gold and craft anything you desire with it. Do you know you are referred to as such?"

"I'm aware of the honor," Jon replied, dipping his head in a brief bow.

"I have a feeling you will rise far, Citizen," the High Priest continued. "You are, what, a Baron?"

"Yes," Jon replied. He had almost added a honorific title to his reply, but that would have been a gaffe. The

La'fao

were servants of the God, and as such, were not given titles. "I am but recently raised to Citizenship. The Crown has seen fit to reward me with a small parse of land and two slaves."

Two slaves who mysteriously managed to escape,

Jon thought. But he kept that to himself.

The High Priest raised the gift to the light again. "But like I said, I see a bright future ahead for you. Perhaps Constable, or even Magistrate, with a city of your own to manage. Or maybe even an entire Province!"

"You have humbled me," Jon replied, bowing low once again. "I but seek to serve Sul, our blessed God and Creator, anyway that I can."

"Though," the High Priest said, smiling, "not to a rank of Priest, of course. This is a honor you're born with," he added, pointing at his gold-colored eyes.

"I understand," Jon said.

"Perhaps you might raise a rank here today," the High Priest said, tucking the gift back into his arms again. "Sul, our Blessed God and Creator, has not personally spoken to a Citizen in many years. But perhaps He will today..."

"That is my sincerest hope," Jon replied. And he meant that. This was the reason he had spent two years trying to attain this privilege.

"Then follow me," the High Priest said. He turned on his heel and began walking down the hallway.

The

La'shen

gave Jon a hard stare before gesturing to him to follow the High Priest. He walked behind Jon, his heavy boots thumping on the marbled floor. Jon had a feeling that the man would love nothing more than to shove that blade into his back.

The Light Bearer isn't stupid. He senses something is amiss.

Jon tried to not let that bother him. Whatever happened would happen. He couldn't waste time worrying about it. Still, it would have been nice if he had a weapon on him.

Jon followed the High Priest down a wide hallway flanked with tall pillars. Jon looked up and couldn't see where the pillars ended. The ceiling was covered in darkness, though he had heard that the ceiling contained a most beautiful mural.

Every so often, the walls along the hallway were broken up with niches carved into the wall. Jon knew these were past gifts offered to Sul by fortunate Citizens, men and women who were elevated in social rank for various reasons. He spotted a sword that seemed to be made from solid gold and a battle helmet that shone like a mirror.

Jon wasn't oblivious to how much more beautiful his own gift was. If it couldn't get the response he wanted, he would have to resort to desperate measures. He prayed it didn't come to that.

They took no turns but continued walking down the impossibly long hallway. Jon guessed that the palace must extend a long way. He had only seen the front of it. But what a magnificent structure it was.

The hallway grew darker and darker until only a small circle of light was left. The High Priest stopped when he reached that circle. He turned to Jon and held out the gift. "Walk five steps past the light and place the gift on the ground. You were instructed as to what words were to be spoken?"

"Sul, God of the Sun and the Earth, I humbly beseech you to accept this token of my worship. If the gift pleases you, please honor this unworthy soul with words that would elevate me above my peers and set me down the path you so choose," Jon quoted.

"Speak only this words," the High Priest warned, his eyes suddenly serious, ominous even. "Try to demand anything of our blessed God, and you will be struck down dead."

Calvus, the

La'shen

, stepped up next to Jon and glared at him. His face and body posture left no doubt as to Jon's fate if he should stray.

"I will speak only those words," Jon assured them.

The God watch over me if I have to break that promise,

Jon prayed fervently.

"Then you may proceed," the High Priest replied, gesturing Jon forward. "Retreat back to the light after finishing the prayer. We will await His answer."

This was the moment Jon had been waiting for. Two long years were spent to get to this point. And he had no idea what to expect. Swallowing nervously, he took his first step out of the circle of light.

It was as if night had suddenly decided to block out the sun. He looked back and was glad to see that the circle of light was still there. The High Priest was kneeling, his lips moving in prayer. Calvus stared at where Jon was, though he knew he was already invisible.

Turning, Jon took another step. Somehow, impossibly, the darkness seemed to grow even more.

What kind of magic is this?

For the first time in his life, Jon was started to feel out of his element.

He took the next three steps in a hurry, the darkness pressing down on him even more. He lowered the gift on the ground slowly and repeated the words he told the priest. He backed up hastily, until he was back in the circle of light.

"Very well done," the High Priest said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm sure our blessed God and Creator will greatly appreciate this gift. Calvus will show you the way back."

"Wait," Jon said quickly. Calvus already had an iron grip on Jon's arm. "I'm suppose to talk to Sul!"

The High Priest shook his head, like a parent to a willful child. "Our blessed Sul has not bestirred himself for many years, accept to speak to his priests. He does, however, greatly appreciate the--"

"What is this power I smell?"

The words reverberated from within Jon's soul. He almost shook from the force of it, as though the ground shook, though no audible sound was made.

"My Lord!" the High Priest called out. Tears instantly sprung to his face as he prostrated himself on the ground, his forehead pressed to the cool stone. "You honor us!"

"What is this?"

Again came the rumbling sensation. Jon shrugged off Calvus' grip and walked to the edge of the light. "It is my gift," Jon said, his voice cold.

The High Priest rocked up to his knees, eyes wide with shock and outrage. "How dare you speak to our Lord in such a manner! Kneel!"

"I don't kneel to false gods," Jon replied. His hand twitched for the Shadow Dagger he no longer had.

"I know this feeling..."

This time, a different feeling came with the force of the words. Jon could almost sense how the being stretched its mind to recall something.

The High Priest was staring into the darkness, utter shock and confusion on his face? "My Lord? What is it? Does the gift offend you? Do you wish this blasphemer dead?"

Jon heard the High Priest gasp as two bright spots of golden light appeared in the darkness. The spots were oval shaped, almost like eyes. Except they were too far apart...

"What have you become?" Jon whispered.

"What is this?" the High Priest shrieked. He turned to Calvus and pointed at Jon with a shaky hand. "Seize this man!"

Jon embraced his magic and whirled to face the

La'shen.

The Light Bearer removed his sword, which was now glowing as bright as the sun.

Damn!

Jon thought, knowing he was doomed. He hadn't figured out a way to counter that power.

"I know this power!"

The voice boomed, making all three of them sway. The High Priest fell to his face, tears streaming down his cheek. "Power, my Lord?"

Then Jon saw it. He knew what to expect. He heard countless rumors, seen countless artist renderings. He knew what this building was shaped like. He had even fashioned his gift after it. But seeing in person was a far different experience.

Jon watched in complete awe as the golden lights swam closer. First a gigantic maw, and then the head of the being entered the circle of light, its eyes blazing with golden radiance.

Jon heard Calvus fall to his knees, a prayer bubbling to his lips. The High Priest had dissolved into sobbing. "My Lord! My Lord is too great! Pluck out my eyes, I have seen heaven!"

The creature the people of Tai'Sul called a "dragon" swiveled its head toward Jon. It had pushed Jon's gift toward him with its nose.

Jon looked down at his gift, at the intricate carving of the miniature dragon. He had used sunstone's for its eyes and rubies for its claws. He melded large, jagged shards of gold together to form its scales. It was a beautiful work of art, achieved only with the power of creation.

It paled in comparison with the dragon before him.

Its golden scales gleamed in the light, as though thousands of golden crystals were embedded into each scale. The head was almost wolf-like, its teeth long, sharp daggers. Its neck stretched out as sinuous as a snake. Huge wings, transparent membranes that sparkled with golden light, were curled tightly to its back.

The head stared intently at Jon.

"I know this power. I was this power, long ago."

"Do you not know me?" Jon asked quietly.

The golden eyes studied him for a long moment. Jon suppressed the urge to flee. He suddenly realized the enormity of his task. He knew it to be impossible.

This being's breath was hot on his skin, and he could feel the power that breath contained. It was more than the power he had felt the night he used his Shadow Dagger to fix reality.

And that was just its breath. How had the God expected him to kill this creature? He had to know it was useless. Which meant Jon had been set up. Again. Jon knew if he had been told the truth that he would never have come. So what did the God want to happen here?

"I think I know you...does this mortal have a name?"

"Jon Crews, my Lord!" the High Priest squeaked.

The great beast shook its massive head, a head as large as two men were tall. "

No, that is not its name."

"I am Jon d'Thelas san Ronar," Jon replied. He suddenly felt angry. Very angry. "Son of Roshard Ronar, of the Order of the 12 and the first King of Astuari."

The great dragon stared hard at him, the golden eyes shining brighter. The beast recognized the name.

"

Jon..."

It was not repeating the name. It was a greeting.

Jon bowed his head. "Hello, Father."

The End

***

You now have a glimpse of what I plan to do with the sequel series. It will contain a cast of all new characters to love and hate. Jon will be there, of course, as will some other people we know, but not as large a part. This series will be massive in scale, spanning 12 different countries and cultures.

Needless to say, it will take quite a while to write! Please don't get your hopes up. It will be a long time before it's posted. In the meantime, I will write much shorter stories in other categories, so please check those out!