Shadow of the Dragon
Posted: Mon Jul 25, 2016 9:16 pm
Hello folks,
As many of you know, I like to study and write about Mormon History. But I also have another interest, and that is Science Fiction/Fantasy. To make a long story short, I began creating my own fantasy world in the late 1980's. I drew maps, and worked out all the history of this world. I began writing a series of novels about it. I had three rough manuscripts completed, when my life took a wrong turn. Needless to say, all of that material got lost. Twenty years of work. The only thing that survived was a briefcase with some materials in it, some maps, some outlines, a few scattered chapters, etc. I was devastated for a long time. I couldn't go back and recreate it all. I couldn't remember whole portions of it. So, what I decided to do was to start a new series of novels from a different part of my world. The prequels to the Star Wars movies of the seventies and eighties so to speak. But I'm kind of nervous about it, and thought that I'd ask some of you here to give me an opinion as to if I should continue to pursue this, or just let it go. So, I'd like to present a few chapters of one of the novels that I've been creating from this world, (this would be the second) in "The Promise of Azoth" series, titled "Shadow of the Dragon". First though, is a Prologue.
Let me know what you think, if this kind of thing interests you... As a side note, this is where I took my online moniker "grindael" from. Grindael is a dragon ....
As many of you know, I like to study and write about Mormon History. But I also have another interest, and that is Science Fiction/Fantasy. To make a long story short, I began creating my own fantasy world in the late 1980's. I drew maps, and worked out all the history of this world. I began writing a series of novels about it. I had three rough manuscripts completed, when my life took a wrong turn. Needless to say, all of that material got lost. Twenty years of work. The only thing that survived was a briefcase with some materials in it, some maps, some outlines, a few scattered chapters, etc. I was devastated for a long time. I couldn't go back and recreate it all. I couldn't remember whole portions of it. So, what I decided to do was to start a new series of novels from a different part of my world. The prequels to the Star Wars movies of the seventies and eighties so to speak. But I'm kind of nervous about it, and thought that I'd ask some of you here to give me an opinion as to if I should continue to pursue this, or just let it go. So, I'd like to present a few chapters of one of the novels that I've been creating from this world, (this would be the second) in "The Promise of Azoth" series, titled "Shadow of the Dragon". First though, is a Prologue.
Let me know what you think, if this kind of thing interests you... As a side note, this is where I took my online moniker "grindael" from. Grindael is a dragon ....
Prologue
It was cold up here, and the man wrapped his cloak more closely about him as he searched the rock face before him. He was caught in a particularly horrible storm for this time of year, and he grimaced in frustration as he waited for another lightning blast to illuminate the way. The downpour had been so great that all hopes of lighting a torch had been abandoned, along with any chance of waiting it out on the exposed face of the mountainside.
It didn’t help that he had not been up here for years uncounted, and that he did not want to be here now. But something had happened, and that had changed everything. Events had made this visit necessary, and he had purposely chosen to come up here under the cover of darkness when it would be less likely for any prying eyes to see him.
He always dreaded the climb, but the lower passages had been sealed up long ago to make it virtually impossible to find the place that he was going to and magik would not work here. He had never counted the stairs and he had not bothered to do so this time. That they were named endless was not by chance, but it was not true. They had an end, and he had reached it. The winds had almost blown him off of the slick stairs a few times, but he had held on, gritting his teeth as he took them one at a time to reach his destination here at the top of the mountain.
As the lightning flashed once again he finally saw the markings. Moving towards the rock face, he reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a large intricately carved iron key, which was threaded to a leather thong around his neck. The door was here (as indicated by the markings), the keyhole hidden under a small rock cleverly attached to the cliff face. He reached out and turned the rock, revealing the slot that would open the door upon insertion of the key.
There was a click as he turned the key and a section of the rock face slid up to reveal a metal door with a small numeric keypad attached to its center. He keyed in a sequence of numbers and waited. There was a buzzing sound and then the door opened a few inches. Wrinkling his nose at the stale air coming out of the opening, he pushed on the door enough to squeeze in, and found himself in a dimly lit passage which stretched out deep into the mountain. At least the generators still worked. He shut the massive metal door behind him, and went over to a video display built into the wall a few steps from the entrance. The power to this unit was linked to the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the scanner acknowledged his handprint and the screen displayed: awaiting command…
“Run program alpha one-two-eight-six” he said quietly, and was rewarded with the sounds of the air recycling unit humming to life. He shivered slightly as he made his way down the passageway, passing through jets of warm air now circulating from the vents built into the ceiling alongside the light panels. He could have made the passage much brighter, but the dimmer setting was adequate and by the time he reached the first crossing he was much warmer and drier. This complex was enormous, with many corridors crossing the one he now walked at regular intervals, but he ignored them and kept on his westward track to the very end where another door awaited him.
Behind this door was an elevator, accessible only by another video unit mounted in the wall next to it. The screen was dark but lit up when he placed his hand upon it. Another scan ensued, but the door did not open. This was expected, and he waited patiently for the screen to come to life with the next procedure. “Stand by for retinal scan,” spoke a tinny voice from the video unit. As the window opened he moved his head closer to the unit, allowing a beam of light to compare the image of his right eye with the digital copy stored in the data base.
“Retinal scan confirmed,” replied the artificial voice once more as the doors to the elevator slid open. He stepped into the featureless compartment and the doors closed automatically behind him. “Destination,” called out a cold voice from inside the elevator.
“Level B1,” replied the man in a firm voice. “Acknowledged,” stated the elevator dispassionately as it hummed to life and began a rapid descent into the bowels of the mountain. It was a long drop at freefall speed, and while he waited he contemplated the purpose of this visit. He was not nervous, exactly, but he did have concerns about how she would respond to being awakened after all these years. She could be unpredictable, but he would not allow that to dissuade him from what he intended to do. An age of men had passed since he last had visited this place and with it had come the laws forbidding men to pursue the knowledge that would enable them to build structures like this and use the technology hidden away here. But ages come and go and what had once brought destruction to all would bring salvation. To set this course in motion troubled the man not at all.
After what seemed a long time, the elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. As the man stepped out of the elevator the lights automatically brightened, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the bright glare of the light that was being reflected off the banks of many machines that crowded every inch of the immense room.
Threading his way through the rows of machines to the center of the room, he sat in one of many chairs that circled a small dais illuminated by a shaft of light from above. The chair adjusted itself to his body and a helmet-like device descended to cover his head.
The headpiece was made of a plastic alloy and when it had positioned itself an inch or so above his head, it hummed to life. A visor lowered itself to eye level, where displays lit up with command prompts. “Run Alexa reboot code two-one-one-two,” he said in a low voice, as the display blinked the word working… at him. He waited for what seemed a long time, as he watched the dark monitor that was built into the computer sta-tion in front of him. He jumped slightly when machine after machine in the room finally came to life and video displays began to turn on one by one. The visor then displayed give verbal command…, and he smiled. “Guardian,” was all he said, but it was enough. The helmet then slid up, and the man stood and looked at the center of the dais.
A holographic image flickered and came into focus. Before him stood the graceful image of a woman robed in white. She had striking green eyes, and dark hair. She was still for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts; then her eyes locked on his and she smiled.
“Taylor,” she said simply.
“Alexa,” he replied.
“You are strangely garbed Taylor,” she commented, eyeing him up and down with what he thought might be a touch of amusement in her eyes.
“Yes, you would think so,” he responded. “Many things have changed since we last spoke,” he added.
“It has been one-thousand-two-hundred-eighty-six years, fifty-four days, twenty-one hours, and forty-five seconds since we last spoke, Taylor.”
He scratched his head and looked down as he tried to hide the look of discomfort her statement had produced. “Well, there were reasons for that,” he mumbled with a little hesitation in his voice.
“It is all right Taylor,” she answered in a soothing voice. “I had many dreams while I was asleep,” she added. He raised his eyebrows at this but did not pursue it.
“There is something different about you Taylor,” said Alexa with a quizzical note in her voice. “There is a strange vibration that emanates from under your clothes,” she added thoughtfully.
Taylor shook his head and with a rueful smile reached be-neath his shirt and pulled out a small blood-red stone that was attached to a silver chain around his neck. He removed the chain and held the stone up before him, and it sparkled and flashed in the light as Alexa inspected it.
Taylor then walked over to one of the computer stations, and pressed a button on the keyboard. This caused a tray to eject itself from a small tower that stood next to the monitor. He placed the stone on the tray, pressed the button and watched as it disappeared back into the slot.
He waited a moment for the tray to re-appear and when it did he retrieved the stone and re-attached it to the chain which he then replaced around his neck. Turning once again to face the dais, he eyed the figure standing silently on the platform in front of him.
“I have analyzed the object that you placed in the scanner, Taylor. The stone has unusual properties. Is it a created object?”
He nodded.
“I thought so. The strange vibration is some kind of sentience. The stone has communicated with me, and I have now guessed the purpose of your visit.”
“Can you re-create it?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” she answered, flickering and looking slightly distracted. “The matrix is too complex to recreate, and I cannot duplicate” (she paused as if searching for the right word) “the personality within it. I use this term loosely, for it is hard to describe exactly the sentience within it. I can, however duplicate portions of the matrix and apply them in a different manner to other stones. After a time, they may gain their own personalities, but I can’t be positive that this will transpire. Will this be sufficient?”
“Yes,” answered Taylor. “Can you use the matrix to complete Deuce?”
“I have already begun that process,” she replied with what Taylor could only equate with smugness. “Would you like me to activate Deuce when the process is complete?”
“No. What I would like you to do is unseal the lower passages and extend yourself into the new pathways I have had built for you. All current passwords and security measures will stay in effect, even at the new points of entry. There is one exception I would like you to take note of, and you are to give unrestricted access to this person, should he ever try to pass the threshold.”
“Would this be the creator of the stone?” she asked.
“That is correct. His name is Galaen Brandis.”