CHAPTER 1
IN THE DAYS OF THE GREAT WARS
One day, more than three thousand years ago, before recorded time, kings were Vikings and Vikings were kings. These were dark times in the place humans knew as home—earth. In these dark times, war was just part of life. Some kings sent their men to war for all the wrong things. The dark kings sent men out so they might gain more power for their kingdoms. So the scale was tipped from time to time. Dark magic on the evil side made the dark kings harder and harder to defeat.
What was needed was something or someone to keep the scale level—or tipped in favor of the good. Some of the great kings had not been influenced by greed. These great kings made a pact to keep things in check and keep their people safe—not kill them in meaningless wars. This was what humans needed, but now the wars had been brought to their gates. They would have to get stronger or find their own magic to save children like Loot and their families and to keep them free in the future.
There were only a few large kingdoms left in South Bend in the far south, where the land started to bend back west and then north again. This was the most scenic area on earth. An ocean was on one side and a forest on the other. The forest ran all the way to the Smoking Mountains. If you could find your way to this place, you would never go back; you could not see the sky or the ground because your eyes would sting from the smoke. This was the home to the largest clan of fire-breathing beasts. The elders called it the home of the Wind Clan dragons. South Bend had park-like forests to boast about, but it was not always safe there.
Loot grew up in South Bend, and it was a great home for the young to grow and run free—if they stayed out of the forest. Loot had started his life at a place called Trans Lease, a busy place. All the trading in the land was done there, and it had been for a few hundred years. The trade ships came from a far-off land called Al-Mamlaka Al-Maghribiyya to do trade with the farmers of the region. The farmers had meadows and gardens on the river flats. The town had docks that seemed to reach to the moon and a pride that could be topped by none.
Then there was Fair Well, the coldest, darkest hole ever. Its inhabitants would act like friends, but the evil side of them would rear its ugly head and make them your worst enemy. Their black magic made the town and everyone that lived there the worst you could imagine. In Fair Well, the dead roamed.
A great raid took place at Trans Lease's palace, the stronghold of the Vikings, which had the biggest docks on the cost. But this raid was not to gain power, as the warriors had been sent there by their king for one reason: to return power to the ones that deserved it. It was to return the rule to the people until they had a true king—not the one that had taken it by force. Trans Lease was under the rule of a great king that was kind to the ones he ruled over and treated them fairly.
But the king was caught off guard by an evil force. His wife was killed in her coach while coming back from a day trip to the outer markets, for the royal family made purchases from all the shops under its rule. Just as the king found out about his wife's death, the palace came under attack and was overcome. The beast leading the attack was Drean the brother of the king of Fair Well. The people of the town of Fair Well would kill women and children without hesitation. They looked and smelled like the dead, for they had white skin, sunken eyes, and yellow teeth.
The king of Trans Lease was killed in front of all his loyal followers, and the crown was placed on the head of the evil leader of the raid. Nothing would ever be the same for Trans Lease.
When King Trea, a big, blond, happy Viking from South Bend, heard about this, he sent his army to the town's aid, in hopes of restoring some peace in the town and returning the rule to the palace. When they arrived, they knew the true king was already dead, so they swept in fast and hard. The evil Drean could not have seen it coming, or he would have held his men back from celebrating; his army was drunk from the spoils of their victory, and most had passed out. The rest had left for their hometowns with slaves for their king, Ventas Stalon This would be the last time they set foot in the town of Trans Lease if the powers had anything to say about it.
King Trea's army stormed the palace like a lightning bolt in a hailstorm. No one saw the attack coming, and no target could withstand its force. No one knows how Drean died that night, as he dropped dead when Trea's men burst into the throne room. He died in front of them with no one even near him; his wound just appeared. Mysterious as this was, they thought it had to be self- inflicted to prevent capture.
An orphan child captured outside the palace at the war's end was named Loot and given to the youngest man in the raid, Steinar, as a joke. Years before, when armies had fought wars for land, they were unpaid. The warriors had made a rule: when a war was won, the treasures of the defeated went first to the strongest and bravest. These gifts were called loot. Loot could be anything from gold to livestock. The war was not for treasures or land, and nothing was to be taken.
Loot was to be a slave to Steinar rather than left for dead. As the son of the greatest warlord ever, Steinar had all the wealth of his dead father. To kings, this was nothing, but to warlords, it was a king's ransom. When they snatched Loot, they had no idea whose son he was; they just knew he was an orphan, and now he would live out his life with Steinar and his wife.
Steinar was a kind man. He had come along that day only to do what was expected of him, and he did it well. He looked into the big blue eyes of the young, blond boy, and the connection was made. He could not treat a Viking child as a slave; Steinar would treat him the way he himself would want to be treated if he had found himself on the steps that day.
The only thing he would change would be Loot's upbringing. For he and his wife were unable to have children, and when he came home with the young boy, she said that they should call Loot their son and raise him that way. Loot was only about six months old and would never know that he was meant to be a slave. He was a happy child, running and playing games with the other kids, and making toys from wood and stones.
Loot was a special child. He was liked by everyone, and he liked everyone he met. Something pulled him to Trans Lease as he went on every trading trip with his father or family friends. The Great War was still present in the minds of the townsfolk. The damage was still in the streets, and the fear was still on the faces of the adults in the markets. Loot had no way of knowing he would one day make these townsfolk feel safe again. He was no warrior; he never harmed a flea.
At the age of ten, Loot made a cart for his mother that she used for shopping. It didn't look like much, but it worked well and was her pride and joy. This was his biggest accomplishment. How would this young orphan boy change the lives of the ones he loved and everyone he came in contact with?
The evil men had not come to farm the land or build settlements, as they would take by force what others had built and farmed. The men the towns folk called evil came from another land and had nothing to lose. They built their armies of many, so they did not have to be strong; their numbers made up for their lack of strength. The lords that led them, like Drean, would never be called kings, for a king must think of his people and his land first.
The dragons of the mountains sat back and watched the humans destroy what they had worked so hard to build. They had hoped that one day humans would see that wars drive them backwards never letting them advance.
The wars had to be stopped before humans became part of the destruction of earth as we know it. Humans were like beasts of disaster; if they were not stopped soon, they would soon have nothing to fight for. Humans had worked so hard to destroy anything they did not understand or have as their own, they would soon end their own existence on earth. Some had gods they told their men to fight for; they said their gods would give them the strength and power they needed. The gods would not kill what they had created or destroy what they had made. Why would they take the time create if they were going to kill? The gods were just a ploy by the humans in power; they were blamed for misfortunes when things did not go the way humans would have liked.
The only strength now lay in nature and in powers that humans could not control or cause to conform to their ways. The hidden and most powerful being in this strange land were the dragons and the invisible humans. Unicorns had all but vanished, never to be seen again. Some said they had been killed; others told stories of herds moving across the land and never stopping.
The only hope the humans had was to bring the forces of nature back together. But the unicorns were gone forever, and the Elfish Clan did not come around anymore. The only thing left was to try to gain the power of the dragons, that together they might save earth.
Mithrex, the first of all dragons, had spoken of the day the dragons would be at one with humans. They would extend their power to a human that would help preserve earth and humanity. This human would be kind and courageous at the same time. The hope of this faded as time was running out. Evil forces were growing in numbers, killing not just the adults but the children as well. The dragons hoped this child would be saved somehow, if he was not already gone.
The war had destroyed the town of Trans Lease and the docks used by the trading ships. The older men had been killed and the young men taken away to Fair Well as slaves for hire or trade. Over the next few years, the young Prince Jalin, a dark- skinned, strong man just a few years older than Loot, came from a far-off land with his army and helped. They rebuilt everything to the way it had been. At the young age of fifteen, Prince Jalin had an interest in Trans Lease. It was his family's main trading port on the coast. Rebuilding Trans Lease to welcome travelers and trade again was no small tasks as spirits of the towns folk were down. Loot did not know that he and the prince would one day cross paths and become friends.
CHAPTER 2
LOOT'S TOOTH
Loot had many friends in South Bend, for he was the kind of child that would give you a hand with anything and ask for nothing in return. He made his rounds in the marketplace every day, helping build things, doing heavy lifting for the women, and running errands for the men. He knew every shortcut in town and how to get past places that no one could get past because of a big dog or a grumpy person who lived there. He never asked for anything for doing these things, for he had a kind heart and nothing to do all day. Bakers would give him treats, and other merchants had candy from afar they gave him from time to time. Every day he made one stop before he headed on his rounds to the gardens of the palace to meet his friend.
Loot's first seventeen years went as planned; nothing was said about his past. His best friend was the daughter of the king and queen of a town in a small, rich country. She was a textbook princess, with long, blonde hair, blue eyes, and smooth, tanned skin. The country was called Ireland, and all that served the royal family liked them. But even with their reputation as being kind and fair, they had to stay on top of affairs in their palace and small town to show they were true leaders. The friendship of Loot and their daughter, Safrin, would have come to a stop if the parents had known about it. But they played only when Safrin snuck out via the garden.
Play was one thing, but Safrin and Loot started to go on trips to the market. She knew she was safe in town, as Loot lived there and knew it like the back of his hand. They could go from one side of the town to the other and never be seen. This went on for most of eight years that they met at the edge of the garden. Safrin was always amazed that by chance they both would end up there at the same time. Loot did not tell her he waited at the gate every morning to see if that would be the day she would come into the garden. Safrin simply thought it was fate.
Little did they know this day trip would be their last trip. They had no way of knowing that she had been followed by one of her father's men when she left that morning.
The first thing Safrin and Loot knew, they were being pursued and running for their lives. Loot could have gotten away, but he would not leave his friend. But he wondered why they were being chased; they had not even crossed a yard with the mean dog or the grump.
Loot's heart beat faster and faster as they tried to get away. He could see Safrin growing week. She didn't get out much to run and play like he did, so she didn't have the strength he did for this sort of game. But this was no game, and their pursuer was a good head taller than Loot, who was now close to six feet tall, with long, blond hair, like the rest of the Vikings in town. The man chasing them had red hair like his father. And he was so close to his dad's size, Loot wondered if they were brothers.
The man would not stop, and for the first time Loot had fear in his heart—not just for him. What would he do if Safrin were caught? How could a boy get her free. Loot had never seen this big, hairy man in town, and he knew evil oozed out of the kingdom closest to them.
Suddenly the man snatched Safrin from behind. Loot turned to help, but the wind was knocked out of him with one blow from the big sot. He tied Loot's hands, but even with his hands tied, Loot never stopped fighting. When Safrin said, "Stop! You will hurt him!" the man helped Loot stand up. Safrin whispered in Loot's ear, "He works for my father."
The man made them walk back to the palace. Safrin knew she would be punished and Loot might as well. As soon as they entered the main room, she told her father, the king, that she had left on her own and when she got lost, Loot was helping her find her way home. King Trea told them, "There is no need to lie. It was not a crime to play. I will think about what you have told me and punish you accordingly."
That night, when Loot got home, he could see the disgust in his father's eyes, yet the smile on his face. Loot was just a kid at heart, and why would he think it was not allowed for the two of them to be best friends.
The next day was a different story, for when Loot went to town, every one of the adults would not look him in the face. Even the ones that would usually meet him on his rounds with a smile and an offer of buns, fruit, and treats shunned him. And when he ran into the kids his age, they told him their parents knew where he had come from and that he was just a slave boy. Then they ran teased him, calling him "slave boy." And then they stoned and beat him to no end. Loot ran away he ran so fast, he ran into the forbidden forest, which he had been told never to enter.
The stories that the elders told to the children of the forest had involved dragons and invisible people. The elders told the stories like it was yesterday, though they had been passed down for over a thousand years. Forever the Vikings had trapped the dragons that ventured close to the town walls. They had gone into the forest and stolen their eggs—not for food but for their own greed. Many had tried and failed, for they had been told that if they could eat a dragon egg or torture a dragon to the point of making it cry and drink the tear, they would be granted anything they wished for. They had never gotten a dragon to cry, and the eggs were like acid; when cracked open, the smoke would make people sick or even kill them.
All of this was the farthest thing from Loot's mind. He was distraught. His face was streaked with mud from dust and the tears from the hurt his so-called friends had caused. Loot ran to the far side of the forest to the Smoking Mountains. He had never been there and did not care what he would find.
As Loot reached the smoke-filled area, the sun disappeared and the sound of the steam and smoke squealed louder and louder.
CHAPTER 3
THE SMOKING MOUNTAINS
Loot was blinded by the smoke, and the sound of the steam was so harsh it hurt his ears. A loud howl came from far above on the cliffs, and the sound of the steam stopped. The howl made him a bit deaf, and fear stopped him in his tracks. The smoke was so thick you could cut it with a sword. The acid in the smoke burnt his eyes and lungs, making him weak. He fell to the ground, his mind racing. Why did I come this way?
