Saga of 5 Ages: The 12 Rings of the Emperor - Tales 1 & 2
The Magistrate - Chapter 4

T he road was blocked.

When Quintus and his companions emerged from the Imperial Range, they had less than a week’s journey ahead of them to reach Tar Kezra, the easternmost city of Diathilos and its secondary capitol. But the direct route was no longer open to them. The cobblestone road was in disrepair, and - most appallingly - littered with the corpses of man and beast. Added to the detritus were large chunks of masonry, statuary and fallen trees. The group eyed the obstructions suspiciously. Though they had seen many similar areas of devastation on their trek across the empire, this trail of destruction bore signs that it had indeed been arranged in such a manner, likely to keep interlopers from intruding upon Tar Kezran soil.

As if fear of the Great Wyrm wasn’t enough.

And so they were forced to head out into the once-fertile fields of the eastern empire, now little more than weeds and dead soil. As fate would have it, they came across an abandoned carriage, no doubt formally owned by a member of the nobility. It was in bad shape but the group deemed it worthy of their time to repair it, seeing as how the magistrate was having more and more difficulty navigating the rough terrain. His old legs grew tired quickly, but with the wagon underneath him, they could make swifter progress. This was important, not only for a quick escape, but also for the fact that everyone knew Quintus’ time was running out.

The carriage rocked and trundled along, creaking and threatening to fall apart at every bump. Quintus, unable to read or write in his journal, merely surveyed the landscape as it slowly rolled by. He noticed large patches of scorched earth and several areas that had been flooded. In some places the vegetation was merely withered and dead. Could this have been caused by these elemental storms the specters had spoken of? Or was this the doing of a foe they had yet to meet?

Quintus could scarcely conceive of a meeting with a dragon. He was a judge, not a lorist or beastkeeper. He dealt with laws and politics, not mystical creatures. How did one deal with a force of nature? How could one expect understanding and sympathy from a life form that was allegedly older than mankind itself? Would these dragons even acknowledge his presence?

Quintus’ ruminations were interrupted by a cry from one of the soldiers who had gone ahead to search for food. Naleth reined up the horses that pulled the carriage as the soldier came running back excitedly.

“Food! An orchard,” he exclaimed, “Untouched!”

Everyone burst into action, their empty stomachs urging them on. Naleth and Jiya helped Quintus out of the fancy wagon, and even he seemed to have a spring in his step at this happy news. Falanx barked loudly, adding to the commotion. All six of them threw caution to the wind and fell in behind the soldier as he led them into a small valley that had apparently been spared from ruination.

As it turned out, the ‘orchard’ was little more than a few dozen feet of fruit-bearing shrubberies, likely once someone’s private garden, now unkempt and wild from years of neglect. But Quintus could easily understand the soldier’s elation and he forgave the man for his overstatement. Indeed, to a starving man, any food seemed like a banquet. The entire group partook of the much-needed sustenance, even Falanx. They ate berries by the handful, and what they could not eat they stuffed into pouches and satchels for later. It was the dog that found the well, and they were all grateful for the freshwater. For a time, their fears and anxieties abated, and not until the sun was near setting did they move to make camp.

The fires of Tar Kezra shone in the distance after nightfall, reminding everyone of the daunting task before them.

“We are still a day or two from the city,” commented Dorian, “Those fires must be huge.”

“I imagine that we shall replace things of even larger proportions once we enter the city.” Quintus’ statement lingered in the air for a moment, sinking in heavily before Naleth responded.

“It would be safer for all concerned, Magistrate, if you were to stay here with Jiya while I accompany the captain and his men to Tar Kezra and search for the best way into the city.”

Naleth’s suggestion was met with the simultaneous disapproval of five other voices. Falanx also howled his disagreement. “It is the best way,” said Naleth, raising his voice to be heard above the clamor, “You all know it. We need to move quickly and quietly, to get in and get out as swiftly as possible. It should be no great task to locate this Great Wyrm and scout out the area surrounding his lair. With any luck, we can then return and decide on the next course of action. Agreed?”

As quickly as they had cried out their objections, the group fell into silence. Then slowly, one by one, they nodded their accord, and even Falanx put his head on his paws in submission.

“At least let one of my soldiers stay with the magistrate,” requested Dorian, in a surprisingly sycophantic tone.

“Very well,” acquiesced Naleth, “I shall go and gather a few things from the wagon. We leave at first light.”

Naleth climbed the slope that led out of the valley, leaving the group stunned. No words were said, until Jiya finally spoke up. “I’m going to go help Naleth prepare.”

Stumbling through the darkness, she eventually found Naleth at the wagon, though he merely stood to one side of it, staring at the stars. She hesitated for moment, then approached and put her arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t apologize,” she responded, “What you said was right. We just never heard you say it quite like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Don’t be,” Jiya admonished him, “It’ll be okay. Besides, hearing you speak so confidently has made me feel a little…amorous.”

Jiya kissed his neck twice before leading him into the carriage.

The next morning found Naleth, Dorian and his soldier well on their way to Tar Kezra. Even though the terrain had become discernably marshlike, the party strayed further and further from the road, for there was little cover and they felt terribly exposed. Instead, they sought out landmarks and tumbled ruins that could offer them some vestige of concealment in their slow approach to the city. Along the way, they nibbled on what little sustenance they had, not bothering to stop as they had no real meal to prepare. They had yet to see a single sentry, nor even a wandering band of scavengers, human or animal. The desolation was eerie, though they all knew the cause. As they drew nearer to the eastern capital, the constant smell of burning became more apparent.

Jiya watched their progress, staring across the ragged plain until, hours later, they were out of sight. Dorian’s second soldier circled the camp, constantly watching for signs of any intruders. His gaze was aimed skyward more often than not. Quintus remained silent during this time, trying desperately to catch up on his analysis of the clues they had gathered thus far. One thing was now certain: it had been no single event that had caused the downfall of the greatest nation on Dreganos. Rather, it was several unfortunate, dire and possibly even conspiratorial events occurring in rapid succession that had promulgated the empire’s doom. Outsiders would say that a lack of any port cities kept Diathilos isolated and limited their trade, thus weakening their economy and leaving their shores open to invasion, but Quintus knew that was not the case.

Regardless of the causes, the biggest mystery that still remained to vex the magistrate was that of the disappearance of Emperor Iandro and his closest advisors in the empire’s final days. They’d all seemed to vanish at once, with no word and no trace. Quintus found this particularly perplexing, as he was one of the highest ranking officials in all of Diathilos and, as such, knew a great deal about the happenings in the royal court. The magistrate was also personally acquainted with many of those noble officers and so to hear nothing of their plans or fates was terribly distressing. Quintus could still recall with unequalled clarity many of the deep and involving conversations he’d had with the Imperial Treasurer concerning the law and its effect on the economy. The magistrate had also beamed with national pride on those frequent occasions that the D’losian ambassador would return from foreign lands and report on how the laws of Diathilos were affecting the judicial systems of the surrounding kingdoms. And of course, as with the judges of Xin Tara and Tar Kezra, Quintus worked directly with and under the Imperial Magistrate to formulate and implement the laws of the land in the most efficient and balanced manner possible.

These and a handful of other extraordinary individuals formed the Emperor’s inner circle. And though Quintus had never met the Imperial family proper, he---

A thought suddenly struck Quintus. As is often the case, it was an idea so frighteningly simple and obvious that it had to be the truth. The magistrate quickly delineated the Emperor’s inner circle, writing them down as fast as he could remember them: Imperial Treasurer Vitrian, D’losian Ambassador Yion, Imperial Magistrate Forux, the Magus Royale, his Imperial Divinity (the Archpriest of Amitar), the Royal Spymaster (name unknown), Traechus (Captain of the Imperial Guard), Lord General Devrian....

Quintus stopped; that was only eight. In order for his theory to be complete, he would have to include the emperor himself, plus the Imperial Matron, the Royal Heir, the Empress Hyphalla...yes! That was twelve! It all made sense now! The twelve members of the Imperial family and the Inner Circle matching the twelve sigils Quintus had seen at the Imperial Palace in Thir Adha. The correlation was direct and obvious, and the Imperial seal bearing the twelve icons had not been instituted until after the ascendance of Emperor Iandro. Of course, the magistrate had not been privvy to the design of nor the meaning behind the Imperial seal. He had always assumed that there was some sort of personal connection between the role of Emperor and the symbology he chose as a representation of his position. But perhaps there was more, much more. What if the sigils had a direct and tangible meaning and were meant as more than just heraldric devices? Twelve circles, twelve rings...

“How are you faring, magistrate?” asked Jiya, startling Quintus out of his reverie.

“I am fine, my dear,” he replied a bit sharply, “but I am at a critical point in my analysis and would like to be left undisturbed!”

“Apologies, magistrate. I shall leave you to your contemplations.” Jiya backed away from the old judge and quickly turned her attentions to Falanx, leading the anxious dog away from the spot where Quintus sat deep in thought. She hadn’t seen the magistrate act so curtly before and the sting of his biting response stayed with her for a while. Jiya liked the old man but had a hard time understanding his deep seated pride and the all-encompassing need to solve this pointless riddle. What bothered her the most was that this feeble old judge had dragged Naleth into what she believed was a foolish and futile quest. But truly, it was not her place to say. Naleth had known Quintus for years before she came along and her husband emulated the man as a mentor and father figure. Still, she was Naleth’s wife and it was her duty to look to his well being. Unfortunately, she could conceive of no way to convince Naleth to give up this endless search for answers without insulting the magistrate and offending her husband. The old man was Naleth’s dearest friend and this quest meant more to both of them than anything else in this life.

Jiya heard the magistrate go into a coughing fit. His health was failing and he would not be around for much longer. She would hate to see him die though, for she knew how much it would devastate Naleth. But perhaps at that point her husband would abandon the search for answers and settle into a more comfortable domestic life. It would be nice to have children and live on a farm. Or in the city. It didnt really matter, as long as she was with Naleth and he was safe.

That thought made Jiya turn her attention northward. She scanned the horizon even though she knew her husband was too far away to be seen. Why in the world did she let him go marching off into a dragon’s lair?! They were creatures that could not be fought, let alone killed. And while she understood that their intention was not to engage the beast she still feared greatly for his safety. There was no way of telling what lie ahead. They had no information as to what had become of the once-great city of Tar Kezra. And despite their efforts to be stealthy, Jiya knew there was no way to escape the notice of a dragon. Oh what could they possibly learn from poking about in these desolate ruins?!

Falanx barked at Jiya, trying to get her to focus more on him. The dog was bored and wanted something to do and someone to play with. Jiya had lost her usual mirthful mood, however. She absently threw a stick for Falanx to chase and he went dutifully bounding after it, leaving Jiya to return to her brooding. Falanx never returned the stick, as his attention was distracted by something in the sky, far to the north. He growled at it and waited to see what it would do. It was slowly coming closer, lazily weaving back and forth over the landscape. He gave a warning bark but none of the others paid him any mind. The thing in the sky was getting bigger as it neared their campsite, and that worried the dog. It was obviously no bird or bat. Falanx looked back at Jiya but she was facing away from the flying creature. Still unsure, Falanx continued to watch the winged beast glide gracefully back and forth. He let out another growl that trailed off into a whimper.

Seeking clarification, Falanx went over to Jiya and nuzzled her hand but she was too wrapped up in her own worries to pay him any mind. He looked back to the sky; the thing was still there, drawing ever nearer. He trotted over to the soldier, hoping to get his attention.

“What’s wrong, boy?” asked the soldier, “Did you lose your stick?”

Falanx barked twice and assumed a rigid stance, facing the direction of the oncoming avian. The soldier followed the dog’s gaze and upon noticing the approach of the creature felt his face drain of all color.

“Dragon!” he cried running towards the others at a full sprint. Falanx began barking angrily in earnest, trying to warn the wyrm away, while Jiya wheeled and screamed at the sight of the great flying beast. “Under the carriage!” ordered the soldier as he grabbed Jiya’s arm.

Jiya called out desperately to the dog, “Falanx! Here! Now!”

The soldier looked to the magistrate who somehow still seemed oblivious to the whole ordeal. “Sir! This way!” Quintus showed no signs that he had heard the man, so the soldier started to run towards the magistrate. He stopped dead in his tracks, though, as the dragon began a slight dive directly at the camp. “Your honor!” yelled the soldier, “Quickly!”

Finally, Quintus looked up from his deep thoughts, still appearing irritated at the interruption. “What is it, man?” he demanded, looking over his shoulder at Falanx. “And what is that damnable dog barking---” Quintus froze. His blood went cold and he felt faint, yet somehow the sight of the massive aerial creature filled him with awe and wonder. The soldier was screaming at the old judge to get under the relative protection of the carriage, but Quintus did not hear. He was transfixed by the pure majesty of this incredible beast. And as the dragon swooped downward, just a score of feet above the ground, Quintus could see with unequalled clarity every detail of the wyrm’s enormous body. For one whose eyesight had grown blurry over the past few decades, Quintus noticed almost every fascinating feature; the way its muscles rippled beneath the scaly hide; the way its serpentine eyes dilated; the tiny bit of fumes that escaped its nostrils; the ivory sheen to its razor sharp teeth. Quintus marvelled at the way it moved, the way its breathed, the way it gracefully kept its tremendous bulk aloft. If this was to be the last vision of Quintus’ life, he was glad to have experienced seeing such a thing of rare beauty.

But the dragon flew by, leaving a powerful gust in its wake that nearly knocked Quintus to the ground. Perhaps humans were not enough to pique its curiosity. Or perhaps it simply wasn’t hungry. The magistrate collected himself as he watched the creature begin a wide turning arc; it seemed they had not escaped its notice after all...

“Over here, magistrate!” implored the soldier, he too nearly paralyzed by shock and awe.

“Yes, of course,” replied Quintus, hobbling towards the carriage as fast as his weakened legs would carry him. The soldier kept an eye on the dragon and watched with trepidation as it began to circle back and head for the camp again.

“Hurry, sir!” pleaded the soldier, as Quintus finally managed to reach the carriage and stiffly crawl beneath it. Jiya made room for the old man and held on to him as she still called loudly to her dog. “Falanx, please! Get over here!” The dog refused to listen.

“My good man, you must join us underneath here,” exclaimed Quintus, “Your life depends upon it!”

“There is no room, your honor!” was the soldier’s reply. “And someone must fetch the dog!”

“By the gods, no!” cried the magistrate, but the soldier had already bolted towards Falanx. From his ground-level vantage point, Quintus watched in horror as the soldier raced against the dragon to reach the still-barking dog. The participants in this grisly competition seemed to move in slow motion, all converging on one fateful spot. Jiya closed her eyes as the dragon’s talons shot out, grasping for Falanx and Quintus turned away when he saw the soldier dive for the dog.

There was the sound of a collision and Falanx let out a squeal. Neither Jiya nor Quintus could bear to look upon the results of the encounter. Then, having tucked his tail and run, Falanx was with them, cowering beneath the carriage. But before the significance could sink in, they heard the sounds of crunching bone and rending flesh. The soldier had faced a dragon and laid down his life for the magistrate and his party. His death came without a single cry of pain or fear.

Jiya began to wail and Quintus attempted to comfort her as he digested the horrific scene that had just occured. All thoughts of awe and wonder had now been dispelled; dragons were creatures of terrifying might and power and none save the gods could stand before them and live. Indeed, Quintus had no illusions about the protective value of this makeshift shelter. His life was at an end, but Jiya still had so much time left ahead of her. And poor Naleth....

Suddenly, the ground shook. The dragon had landed without warning and with very little sound. The magistrate saw that it was less than twenty feet away, and yet its body was big enough to block out the sun. Quintus lay there underneath the carriage in the shadow of the great beast, waiting for the final moment. Jiya was quiet, as was the dog. The magistrate barely caught the swift movement as the dragon swept its tail around and sent the entire carriage flying. The blow and its subsequent rolling end over end was enough to shatter the vehicle into busted planks and wooden splinters.

Such tremendous power, thought Quintus. Why do these animals not rule Dreganos? The old judge silently admonished himself; Because Amitar and the other gods forbid it! Realizing that these would be his last moments, Quintus decided that it was time to stop analyzing and to start praying. He appealed to Amitar, god of justice, thanking him for the opportunity to serve as his instrument here on Dreganos. He begged for the deity to watch over Naleth and Captain Petronus. He even asked Nilphus, god of the dead, to make the end swift and painless for both he and Jiya.

And a voice responded.

It was a voice that rumbled like the sound of a boulder being dragged over stone. In fact, the words were so garbled that Quintus had to strain his old ears to make them out.

Stand, human.

The magistrate was unsure of how to react. Where had this voice come from? To whom did it belong? Amitar? Nilphus? Were the gods trying to communicate with him? Was he already dead?

Rise and face me, human.

The voice that sounded like an earthquake was speaking directly to Quintus, he was sure of it. But had it come from...the dragon?

Quintus stood and faced the beast, mustering every bit of courage and dignity that he could. The judge positioned himself so as to block the quivering forms of Jiya and Falanx from the dragon’s view, though he had no illusions that he would be any kind of barrier against its attack.

The wyrm scrutinized Quintus, seeming to take in every detail, including the sights, sounds and scents of the old man. Quintus was unsure of how to react. Should he attempt to communicate with the dragon? Or perhaps make a peace offering? Given the swiftness of the soldier’s demise, the judge quite expected to be dead by now.

You wear the regalia of the fallen empire.

Jiya and Falanx both yelped at the sudden statement, as its volume reverberated throughout their very beings. Qunitus glanced down at his tattered judge’s robes, the gold heraldric stitching still quite noticeable. Was this great creature referring to Diathilos? Did the wyrm have knowledge of its passing?

“I-I-I do indeed, sir,” sputtered Quintus, unsure of the polite honorific for a dragon.

Why have you not fled like the others?

“Others?” inquired Quintus. “You mean my fellow countrymen?”

The chattel are of no concern. Those that glorify the sigil you wear wield powerful magics stolen from Terrodraxus!

The dragon’s booming voice and angry, accusatory tone forced Quintus to take a step back, nearly putting his foot down on Falanx’s paw. Jiya grabbed onto the judge’s ankle, as if she wanted him to run. More likely it was simply for moral support and to keep herself from screaming.

Quintus was awestruck. This gigantic creature knew something about the officers of Diathilos, perhaps even the Inner Circle and the royal family itself! It would explain a great deal if they had tampered with some sort of foul and forbidden magic. In fact, it could have been the very cause behind their disappearance! But all at once? It seemed difficult to imagine a scenario where the entirety of the empire’s ruling class all vanished together. And to steal magic -- or anything for that matter -- from the most feared creature on all of Dreganos?! Quintus knew that the Emperor and his fellow royals had more sense and honor than that. It was enlightening and confusing at the same time.

“I know not of which you speak, great one,” replied Quintus, suddenly more intrigued than fearful. “In fact I search to discover their fate presently.”

You shall not. For if Terrodraxus could not discern their location to exact his revenge on these impudent thieves then no mere human will succeed.

Perhaps they yet live, hoped the judge. His mind was starting to race. He needed to consult his journal, to commit this information to its pages and to examine the repercussions of this new clue. But his book was yards away and he still had no idea what the dragon would do next.

A thunderous response was given in answer to his thoughts.

I leave now to report this to my lord.

Quintus was perplexed. “Then you are not Terrodraxus?”

The wyrm roared with fury. You are not worthy to speak my master’s name!

Both the humans and the canine cringed at this deafening outburst. “I-I apologize,” was all Quintus could think to say.

My lord will watch you and when these thieves are found he will kill them and he will be pleased.

Abruptly, the dragon vaulted into the air and headed north, creating a terrible draft that left Quintus, Jiya and Falanx amidst a swirl of dust and dirt. Falanx remained silent but Jiya released every bit of fear and began to sob uncontrolably. The old judge put his arm around her, trying to be of some comfort. And yet his thoughts drifted to the puzzle at hand and the tantalizing new possibilites that had opened up.

The two remained embraced for some time. Neither knew how much time had passed. Upon their separation, Quintus went to retrieve his book. He began flipping through its pages, enticed. Jiya looked at him incredulously, but he didn’t notice.

“Magistrate!” she cried, “We must try to replace Naleth and warn him!”

Quintus hardly looked up from his journal. “I’m sorry?”

“We have to go! That dragon is headed their way!”

Quintus snapped out of his analysis. “Oh, yes! Of course, my dear!” Quintus silently admonished himself for his thoughtlessness. The wyrm had spared their lives but there was no guarantee that Naleth would be so lucky...