And so it was the dawn of another day before they gave their thanks to the governor and the people of Palios and ascended to their place on the dragon’s back.
The day seemed to stretch on ahead of them until it was night once again, extending their journey to agonising lengths. Ilargo continued through the night, his vision unimpaired by the dark. In the pre-dawn, they flew over Darkwell, the most southern city in the northern realm; a marker for all that they were passing from one region to another.
As the sun rose again, Gideon cast his eyes out on the world, hoping that he might discover a trace of The Rebellion. To his left, in the west, The Evermoore’s tree line appeared as a faded darkness resting on the horizon. Following the great forest north, there was no missing The Vrost Mountains that curled around its northern boundary.
I see them! Ilargo exclaimed.
Gideon pushed up from the two small spikes his feet had always rested on. Looking over Ilargo’s head, he narrowed his eyes and tried to make out The Rebellion’s forces. Considerable as their numbers were, though, the dragon’s eyes proved vastly superior as Gideon failed to discern them against the terrain.
With some impatience, he waited for Ilargo to close the gap. As he was informing Galanör and Aenwyn of their imminent arrival, another arrival met them in the sky. Gideon’s words trailed off, leaving him speechless and wide-eyed.
Avandriell was flying beside them, her bronze scales catching the rising sun.
Galanör leaned forward, bringing his words closer to Gideon’s ears. “Avandriell seems to be… bigger.”
Gideon laughed at the blunt assessment and nodded in agreement. “I would say so!” he called back.
Coming up on their other side, an even bigger dragon made his presence known. Athis glided in beside Ilargo, their wing tips almost touching, as he reached out to speak with Ilargo. Gone were the days when their thoughts were one. Now, Gideon had to request permission to join the bridge between Athis and Ilargo, though it was freely given.
It is good to see you, Gideon, Athis said after greeting Ilargo.
And you, Athis, the old master replied with a genuine smile lighting up his face.
Rather than waste time with words and endless questions, Athis gave Ilargo access to his recent memories. After they were absorbed at some speed by Ilargo, the green dragon filtered them through to Gideon at a pace his mind could comprehend. They witnessed events from Vangarth and The Evermoore, where the Drakes had taken days to decide on their action.
It was hard to experience Athis’s weakening condition as the tree burned, though Gideon noticed anything to do with Inara, including her feelings, were guarded from him, protected as they were by her companion. The old master didn’t push it, content for them to maintain their privacy. Instead, he accepted the memories that pieced together the events surrounding the tree itself.
A monumental weight pressed upon Gideon’s heart as it all came together. Adan’Karth and hundreds of Drakes were all gone, their life force and magic offered up to the tree. It was an enormous sacrifice. Both he and Ilargo only wished they could have been there to pay their respects to the brave Drakes and say farewell to Adan’Karth.
Athis pushed on and Ilargo broke it all down for Gideon. While they had been flying across the world, eager to return to Illian’s shores, The Rebellion had been moving across the land. In Palios, Gideon looked down through Athis’s eyes and saw a ruined stable littered with bodies, all Arakesh. Asher lay unconscious among them, watched over by newly grown Avandriell. It felt a revelation to hear that those bodies were supposedly the last of Nightfall’s wicked order. Fitting, Gideon thought, that they should finally be brought down by Asher of all people.
Since then, they had journeyed north intending to reach The Black Wood and meet Doran. As they had to pass the mouth of the valley that formed The Vrost Mountains, where it was believed Alijah and his forces were holed up, The Rebellion had made a substantial camp before going any further.
Gideon looked over at those mountains again. He didn’t need to experience Athis’s memories to know where their enemy was. The Bastion. A cold and dark place that had never known warmth or light, its black stone forever reigned over by the corrupted and evil beings of the realm.
Soon after meeting Athis and Avandriell in the sky, Ilargo was setting down on the snowy plains at the foot of the mountains. To the north of the camp, a large group of dwarves looked to be amassing while hundreds of elves and humans saw to fortifying the gap between the camp and the valley that cut through The Vrost Mountains. As before, a large tent was situated near the heart of it all, a place where The Rebellion’s council could meet, and Gideon’s current destination.
Many broke away to greet them, though most were elves. They were offered good food and hot drinks from the fires that dotted the camp. Gideon promised himself he would indulge in whatever they had soon enough, but not before he met with his friends. The elves who had approached them looked only too happy to move past and tend to Ilargo, as always.
Navigating the camp was no easy task. The Rebellion had clearly been restocked since leaving The Moonlit Plains and now possessed hundreds of carts with supplies, not to mention fresh horses from Palios. Of course, it was the Warhogs that proved the more difficult to negotiate, boisterous as they were.
As the pavilion began to loom large in Gideon’s vision, he found his path blocked, though it wasn’t by Asher this time. The old master stopped in his tracks and met the vivid blue eyes of Inara Galfrey. It quickly became clear that the Guardian of the Realm wasn’t going to move out of his
