Dragon Sword by Ree Soesbee

Author:Ree Soesbee [Soesbee, Ree]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-3578-9
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

The darkness parted like velvet curtains, swirling back before her upraised hand. The belly of the mountain was hollow, holding a courtyard the size of a palace grounds. Once, the palace had been built into the side of the mountain, half standing under the sun and half carved into the mountainside. The outer glory, the gardens that had spilled down the mountainside by the river, had been nothing compared to this underground patio with its phosphorescent wonders.

Asvoria closed her eyes, remembering those days when her magic had brought forth life from the very stone. It was once a paradise, where water trickled along carefully maintained fountains. Strange vines had curled around delicate iron frameworks. Flowers had lined the stonework paths. On the far side of the cavern, a statue made of pure onyx had depicted Asvoria holding aloft the Aegis, the Daystar clasped to her stone breast. The palace proper was carved from the very mountainside, and bronze doors opened between the garden and the rear of her magnificent home.

But no more. Now, the grand cavern was faded and decrepit. The garden, once bright with flowers, was a tangled jungle of rocks, made light by softly glowing fungi that spread across the distant stones. The iron trellises were rusted and fallen. The bronze doors were green with age, and the waterfall was a fetid pool.

Only the statue still remained as it was, standing black and glistening on its pedestal. Behind it, a mausoleum had been erected, its sides as black as the statue, exactly as she had instructed.

Asvoria frowned. With a sweep of her hand, a thousand sparks fell upon the barren rock, and flowers of glowing light rose from the cracks in the once-dark earth. The walls erupted in fountains of twisting vines, green and silver that arched from the walls, curling about iron frameworks.

“Much better.” Her blonde hair shifted across her shoulders, and violet eyes the color of dark twilights gazed out at the building. “So lovely,” she whispered. She bent down to touch the bones of a skeleton at guard. He stood where he had died, still wearing the rotted armor of a guardsman. On his breastplate was the insignia of a dragon surrounding an ornate letter A.

Asvoria sighed. “One of my last faithful.” She gazed about. “There were so few of you. There should have been more. A hundred servants, fifty guardsmen, and seven of my finest wizards were to be interred with my body. But where are they?” Her fingers brushed the skull’s cheekbones as though touching a beloved friend. “Did they abandon me, at the end? How very sad. I hope they were punished. If not,” she smiled sunnily, “I shall have to remember to find their descendants and do it myself.” Standing, Asvoria stretched, nearly purring with amusement. “Ah, the possibilities this new body allows me.”

My body. My future. Not yours.

“Be quiet, you impudent girl.” Asvoria laughed at the voice within her soul. Since her imprisonment, Nearra had been a constant plague. “You weren’t doing anything with it except wasting your life pining after some woodland barbarian.

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