Gods and Dragons
The Dragon of Time Book 1
by Aaron Dennis
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Gods, Dragons, a mercenary with a blade and no memory of his past.... The world of Tiamhaal is alight in war. Men ruled by kings slay their opposition in the name of their God, but there are others who claim the Gods are little more than scorned Dragons of ages past. Scar has come to find the truth, but is the truth an absolute certainty, or is it just the skewed memory of a forgotten kingdom?
Book Trailer
Dragon Slayer
The Dragon of Time Book 2
With the death of Kulshedra, Dragon of Truth, it has been revealed that Scar, the mercenary, is in fact Sarkany, the Dragon Slayer, a creature fashioned for the sole purpose of purging the Dragons from the world of Tiamhaal, yet such a thing is not so simple.
Kings and queens yet war amongst one another. They, too, lie, connive, and coerce, and so, Scar and his friends must find a way to persuade those few, benevolent rulers to band together.
In the midst of peace talks and dead Dragons, those still in the worship of the beasts grow more powerful. Some of them even doubly praise their oppressor in an effort to wield more magic.
Now, united with his friends, Scar sets his gaze upon a hopeful horizon, but is strength in numbers sufficient to keep the Dragons from completing their machinations?
Book Trailer
Dragon Pact
The Dragon of Time Book 3
Dragons have posed as Gods, but the Dragon Slayer has come to Tiamhaal bearing retribution. Sarkany, avatar of Eternus, the Dragon of Time, known to his friends and enemies as Scar, has slain four Dragons; Kulshedra, the Dragon of Truth, Zmaj, the Dragon of Destruction, Gyo, the Dragon of the Sun, and Drac, the Dragon of fire, but there are yet many beasts left. Scheming and concocting, the capricious beasts grow in power as their brethren fall. Their goal; to once again walk Tiamhaal in the flesh. Scar must gather his friends to rebuild an old kingdom, thus alighting the Dragon Wars anew.
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Excerpt:
They remained silent for a time. Marching in cadence created the
sounds of heavy boots grinding rocks or shrubs into the hard soil. A scarce few
puffs of white clouds way up high in the blue sky floated off to the west.
There was no shade and no trees.
Scar really wanted to get back to the old discussion; Gods and
Dragons. He did not want to upset his friend, but the burning question yet
remained unanswered. He cleared his throat once, but his own self-absorption
prevented him from formulating the proper query. After a moment’s pause, he
finally gave in to his nagging heart.
“I hate to bring this up again,” he chuckled, “but if every tribe
has specific blessings they bestow to warriors, who believe,
then how can anyone attest that any one God is the real God?”
“I hate that you bring this up again, too,” Labolas answered,
curtly.
For a time, he did not touch the subject, but it was a long
road, and he knew the mysterious fellow was only trying to comprehend a very
mysterious world. In fact, it was that issue—trying to understand the ploys of
God, or Gods—that led to war. Labolas wanted to see peace in his lifetime, yet
he believed that was only possible if everyone, or mostly everyone, acquiesced
to the belief of only one God.
“I guess I can’t attest to anything save experience,” the archer
broke the silence after some twenty minutes. “In my life I have seen the
blessings of many tribes. I don’t claim to have the real answer. I cannot
possibly hope to comprehend the designs of a deity. All I can say is that every
tribe does receive some blessing, a very specific blessing according to his
tribe, and the intensity of that blessing is usually predicated on faith.
Sometimes it is predicated on other virtues.”
Scar tried to let the words sink in, make some sense, but he
still felt something was missing. He looked at the dusty ground without saying
a word while he kept pace with the seemingly tireless captain, not that his own
constitution was lacking.
“Where do I fit in? I guess that’s my real issue, here.”
Labolas nodded almost imperceptibly, saying, “Again, I can’t
hope to comprehend that either, Brandt. I wish I could shed more light on your
plight.”
“You made a rhyme,” Scar chuckled.
Labolas also laughed. Their comradery did ease the tension of
such a heated topic. As the blazing sun continued to beat down upon their
forms, Labolas struggled to assist; he tried to keep his own self-reflection at
bay and simply asses the discussion objectively.
“Listen,” he started. “Brandt, it’s everyone’s lot in life to
deduce how they fit in. I don’t think any man can give you that answer. You
will have to acquiesce to Kulshedra. He is God of Truth after all.”
Scar rubbed the sweat off his head. He grumbled about the heat
as they marched their way up a steady incline. The land was on a slope. After
some time, the two came to the descending side of the slope and towards the
river.
“I don’t see why I should acquiesce to anyone. None of them have
blessed me,” Scar sighed.
“You heal quickly. You are tireless. Hell, you were set on fire
and have recovered. How can you claim to have no blessing?” Labolas countered
in a tone of reverence.
The mercenary nodded, his heavy mood slowly dispelling. “These
are not blessings of Kulshedra.”
“No, I suppose they are not.”
“There are thirteen tribes,” Scar started up again. “Each with
its own territory, people, and blessings, but you say there was once another
kingdom. Was there a tribe of Alduheim?”
Labolas admitted he had never heard of such a tribe. The kingdom
of Alduheim was ancient and little of it was known. It was a while yet before
he said anything else.
“Gilgamesh is the man to answer your questions. He is much closer
to Kulshedra, much closer to truth.”
“If you don’t mind indulging me further.”
“Yes?”
“I had asked if the paladins wage war against each other.”
“I believe only Paladins of Severity only ever attack other
paladins. Severity is, after all, all they know.”
“An abysmal existence to want to extinguish everyone simply over
a lack of conformity.”
Labolas’s eye twitched. He was unsure if Scar was speaking
allegorically. “Do you refer to the tribes wanting everyone to fall under one
deity?”
Scar had not made that connection and was only speaking
existentially. The mercenary was almost shocked by his friend’s question.
“I, I’m not sure, now that you mention it. I had only meant that
those paladins appear, well, severe,” Scar replied and laughed. “To change the
subject.”
“Please,” Labolas interrupted.
“Yes, well, I’m wondering what role Alduheim is to play in this
worldwide conflict. I mean, am I to side with Kulshedra? Simply be an ally? Who
will my people be? There is, this is just too much…I don’t even know who I am!”
“Peace, Brandt,” Labolas consoled and placed a hand on his
friends wrist. “You should not even hope to force these issues nor try to find
all the answers in one day. Let the course of life find its way to you.
Besides, you are whoever it is you want to be. Perhaps, you cannot recall who
you are for that very reason. In fact, how do you know that you are not part of
Kulshedra’s great design? You may well have been sent here by him.”
Scar managed a weak smile. In spite of his prowess in battle,
Labolas was quite the philosopher. The mercenary was impressed and was very
glad to have such a friend. He thought back to their first meeting during the
defeat of Lovenhaad.
“Kings don’t rule alone, my friend,” the Kulshedran smiled,
softly. “Take Gilgamesh, he has many advisors and counselors.”
“He does?” Scar was astonished.
“Well, sure,” Labolas chirped. “No one can rule a country alone.”
“But I thought he spoke directly to Kulshedra. Why would such a
man need the advice of subjects? Would they not be fallible?”
That was a chord, which rang true, and for a moment, Labolas did
not have an answer. “Well, I,” he stammered. “Ah,” he said as though an insight
had come unto him. “I can’t say for sure, as I have never asked, but it is a
safe assumption that they advise him on matters of strategy, conflict resolution,
trade, and local governance. Certainly, he does not plague Kulshedra with
insignificant queries.”
Scar nodded with understanding. All these
blasted worries. It would have been simpler to just be a
mercenary for hire, but it looks like that is not who I am. Perhaps, I am meant
to be king. My concerns for these people grow every day. His
internal dialogue gave way to recent events in Usaj.
After being accosted by the Dracos, he had wandered into the
country ruled by Zoltek; they were all people concerned only with attacking the
other tribes. They truly had no allies and did not seem to hope for any kind of
peace. Their resolution was one of bloodshed. They were
all guided by the principle of severity…I think there is more to these paladins
than just confusion. I think they may be on to something…Gods and Dragons…Gods
and Dragons.
The men continued trudging in the heat for hours. No more words
were uttered for a long time. Before the sun set, and as a cooler wind finally
started to blow, they followed the Iles north and came to a large bridge built
over the river. Immense, brown, rectangular pylons supported the structure.
Water rushed against the Kulshedran architecture. At that spot, the river was
nearly a hundred feet across, and the lines of sediment made it clear that it
crested, at one time or another, at nearly three hundred feet.
“We’re not far now,” Labolas broke the silence. Scar said
nothing. He was intently gazing at the bridge. The dark, brown stone blended in
nicely with the dark, blue river and the dusty, brown soil. There was a bit
more vegetation in that vicinity, due no doubt to the river.
“A fine bridge, no?”
“Such a marvelous structure,” Scar replied.
“Discovered the love of architecture all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know that it’s sudden,” he retorted. “I feel as though
people who can raise such structures ought to be able to find a way to
negotiate peace, bridge the gap, so to speak. There are better things to do
than fight.”
Labolas pursed his lips and nodded nearly imperceptibly, adding,
“The architects have indeed erected magnificent constructs, but peace, like the
bridge, must be laid one stone at a time.”
Scar mused over a life free of violence. He tried to think about
whether he held any talents or skills besides mowing down enemies. There was
nothing in his memory of the sort. To the best of his knowledge, he was just a
fighter.
The mercenary smiled for a moment then started to cross the
bridge. “What’s Eresh like?”
Labolas marched alongside him, and as he looked over the rail to
the raging river below, he replied, “A military town. Mostly everyone there is
a soldier. It is so close to Juhir, a town on the Satrone-Sudai border, that it
requires some extra regulations. Though the people of Gyo are allies, we always
protect our borders.”
“People of Gyo?”
“We call them Gyosh.”
“Gyosh? Like a Gyosh warrior?”
“Yes.”
“Gyo is the God of…?”
“The sun…they say.”
“Yet, you are allies.”
“That is correct,” Labolas struggled for a moment to provide an
explanation to a question Scar was sure to ask. They were both on the other
side of the bridge by then. “It is said that Gyo, God of the Sun, believes that
both Kulshedra and Khmer, while not true Gods, are bearers of truth and life
respectively, and as such, their people must be of good will.”
“But you are at war with Khmer,” Scar interrupted.
“Indeed, which often strains our Gyosh relationship, but the
agreement between Gilgamesh and Munir, their sultan, is so long as they don’t
hinder or help either of us against each other, they will support our struggle
against, say, Zoltek.
“So, Gilgamesh is at war with Zoltek and the leader of Khmer?”
“His…or her…? The leader of Khmer, we do not know if it is male
or female, but it is called Sahni, and yes. Gilgamesh is at war with Zoltek,
like everyone, and with Sahni. Our real allies in all this are the Dracos and
Scultonians, but even the latter is occasionally disconcerting.”
“Scultonians?”
“Followers of Scultone, God of Death.”
“This gets more and more convoluted,” Scar complained.
“Welcome to war, my friend.”
Dennis has been writing for 8 years and has accomplished a great deal in a short amount of time. Apart from writing and creating some wonderful stories, he learned editing from working with Chuck Sambuchino. His creative skills are easily recognized in books like War and Glory where scifi and horror are mixed, or books like Cayneian, where fantasy and horror are mixed, but he also portrays a great many psychological and philosophical issues throughout his writing.
Producers can check his list of titles at his Kirkus proconnect page.
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