Calm yourself, Malliath instructed. We have no need of the book nor the knowledge of the Jainus and their magic. We will open a doorway to the realm of magic without spells. And when magic itself is but a memory, so too will be the notion of mages and their wretched ways. In the balance that follows, peace will reign.
Alijah let his head roll back beneath the jagged stalactites. As always, Malliath was right. With or without the book, they could still change the world - The Crow had seen it after all.
The book is not all we lost, Malliath continued, releasing more memory.
Alijah was instantly looking through the eyes of Lord Kraiden in his final moments. The Dragon Rider had been slain by Doran Heavybelly, and his dragon, Morgorth, had succumbed to the power of the elves. The king cursed magic, mimicking the venom that Malliath held for it. Yet again, it had tipped the scales and taken a valuable tool in the war for peace. Of the five Riders he had taken Illian with, he was now down to three.
Two, Malliath corrected, reading his thoughts like a book.
His awareness returned to the sanctuary, and Alijah met his companion’s reptilian eyes. Two? he repeated, knowing only of Kraiden’s death to Doran and Col-vok’s death to Inara, two years previously. What are you holding back? the king demanded.
Your mind needs time to embrace memories that are not your own.
My mind has never been stronger. Show me!
Malliath adjusted his position in the shadows, revealing a glimpse of his deadly teeth. As you wish.
The dragon brought down the walls that had been protecting Alijah’s mind from a flood of foreign memories. Again, he was transported from the sanctuary and into the passages of Malliath’s mind. It was a labyrinth. There were hundreds of Reavers constantly witnessing and hearing events across the realm, but Malliath helped him to focus on just one - a lowly warrior in Namdhor. At great speed, the scene played over and over in his mind.
Ensuring his comprehension, Malliath simply stated, Namdhor has been taken.
Alijah’s jaw clenched when he took on the memory of Vighon jumping from the keep’s walls with the sword of the north blazing in his hands. Karsak’s death was instantaneous, its rotten skull no match for burning silvyr.
Then there was Rengyr, his Dragon Rider.
Alijah opened his eyes, returning to the sanctuary, after seeing his mother take Rengyr’s head with her enchanted bow.
“YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM!” Reyna had shouted. Her words echoed in his mind. The betrayal stung, piercing his heart.
Yes… Malliath purred, nurturing his rage. You have been discarded, replaced. They have a new son now.
Alijah rubbed his face, distorting his features. A storm was taking shape inside of him, preventing the half-elf from grasping any single emotion.
They believe you are weak, Malliath provoked. Your parents. Your sister. They rally behind the northman and his false promises. He cannot deliver peace to the people, just as he cannot defend the realm from threat.
Alijah’s mind was filled with violent images, though none more so than Vighon impaled on a green Vi’tari blade while all of Namdhor watched. The imagery became all the more gruesome when Malliath ate his corpse, wiping the house of Draqaro from history. The king blinked hard, regaining his grip on the sanctuary’s reality.
Malliath raised his head, his muscles tensed beneath his scales. For the crime of his defiance, Vighon Draqaro has but one fate! You should embrace it.
Vighon was indeed his enemy, and a powerful one at that given his claim to the throne, but he was not the gravest threat to Alijah’s plans.
What of my sister? Alijah’s choice of words was met by a sense of disappointment from Malliath. What of Inara? he asked instead. With Athis by her side she poses a greater threat than Vighon.
Malliath slowly dipped his head to bring his gaze in line with Alijah. It was unnerving. The king’s stomach lurched when he processed the information that passed between them.
Inara was in Erador.
Alijah reached out and leaned against the rock as he considered the potential repercussions of her presence there. Taking his time, and assisted by Malliath, he relived events from within Valgala’s walls. His fears only worsened when he saw Asher in Inara’s company, both fighting in the foyer of his personal chambers.
One detail especially caught Alijah’s eye: Mournblade. He had mounted it in his study, yet now he was looking at it slung over Inara’s shoulder.
So they’re looking for Gideon, he concluded.
They were looking for Gideon, Malliath responded. This was days ago. The last time they were seen was on The Spoken Road.
Again, Alijah pushed through the memories of dead Reavers until he found the right one. Indeed, the companions, including a Drake of all creatures, had last been seen fleeing the capital on the road to the Tower of Jain. Thanks to Athis, the memory was burned away.
Alijah could sense Malliath’s unease. If they find Gideon, the dragon reasoned, they will come to know everything including the importance of our work in The Moonlit Plains.
Alijah could feel every ounce of his companion’s quiet fury. We should assume they have discovered him by now.
Malliath’s thick claws dug deep into the rock as his purple eyes pulled the king in.
I will eat your sister, he promised. But not before she watches me rip out Athis’s heart. Gideon Thorn, however, will die by your hand. You wished for him to remain alive - his interference will be on your hands.
Alijah turned away from his companion, haunted for the moment by the image of his sister disappearing down Malliath’s throat.
How long have I been asleep? he asked, changing the subject.
Two days, Malliath answered flatly.
I want to wake up, Alijah said with the hint of a demand in his tone.
You are still healing. The Jainus’s spell took its
