TEARS OF THE DRAGON

Book Two in the Chronicles of Ajalorn

Elminor Dru, great bronze kindgdragon of the elmen, stood on the precipice, looking down at the black and flaming lava below him. The cauldron was almost half a mile wide now, and growing by the moment. In its center was a black hole of evil. Like a sinister womb, the throbbing central fountain of the cauldron was giving birth to the seed of evil as a mighty demon began to make its entrance into the world of Ajalorn. A scaled and ridged neck, a hideous head, warted and horned, a broad mouth spewing venom and blasphemy, hell’s captain came squirming into the realm of the elmen.

Elminor looked to the jagged stone ceiling above him. Somewhere up there in the sun was the great city of Calinor on the Ammerine, once the capital and home of his beloved king Rhonan and Ismeral, and now the home of his own young son, Ashpelk.

Ashpelk, my son, my son! How I would have taught you the ways of the kingdragon and Tam d’Ru.

He tried to look forward in time, to see that his son would be okay, that he would somehow understand, that he would heal, that he would live.

But all he saw was the blur of his own reflection in a small pool of water at his feet, made by the modest trickle of an underground stream.

He recalled the frightened look on his son’s face when he had told him goodbye, the terror in his wide eyes as it became clear he would lose his father this day.

Elminor stared at his image in the pool, and his heart burst. From deep within him came a torrent of tears. His son would lose him today and be forever an orphan. With grief that only a father can understand, he poured out his hot tears and let them splash sizzling onto the surface of the mineral pool.

When his deepest grief had abated, he dragged himself and his attention back to the precipice.

O great Tam d’Ru, King of Heaven, see to my young son Ashpelk, he will not understand.  May he find a Father in You.

He glanced across the chasm at the wizard Quasboriud, entranced in his wild encantation, conjuring Abomination into the physical realm.

Idiot.

The demon was halfborn now, with one giant wing through the portal, squirming to pull itself on through.

Elminor fastened his golden eyes on the foul form below him and prepared himself.

Breathing hard and deep, he stirred the flames within him. His chest expanded, his neck enlarged, his breath crackled. Bronze scales become so hot that his body glowed  down  its entire two hundred foot length. Radiating green and yellow light from between his scales and from his eyes, he filled his heart, head and body with the power of righteousness. Then, with the Name of Tam d’Ru on his tongue, he leaped from the precipice, folded his wings, and plummeted downward.

Elminor Dru, Au El Menior d’Ru, “For all people the gift of Heaven” screamed down through smoke and the stench of hell to meet his destiny.

Lungs filled, fire exploded, and the blinding righteousness of the Bronze Kingdragon  errupted from his mouth like the sword of heaven.

Scorching and incinerating, his fire met the Abomination head on. It would be stopped, and the rift sealed. Good would win over evil.

But there would be no survivor.

Mutual annihilation was required.

But through the smoke and flames, he caught a glimpse of eternity and his heart exploded with joy. Streaking through the air, torching his way at lightning speed, he roared in triumph as he slammed into the writhing Vomit of hell.

The detonation ripped through air, fire, and solid rock at the speed of light.  Tectonic plates rattled like loose dishes, deep fountains were broken up, and deeper fires were quenched. The earth quaked, valleys became mountains, an underground trickle became a torrent, and rivers ran backward.

Good overcame evil.

The wizard Quasboriud became something entirely different and was swept away in the flood.

The maw of hell was slammed shut.

The elmen were saved.

And a young kingdragon lost his father.

***

Here is the beginning of the book I am currently working on.

For The Love of God

Chapter One
Masterpiece

Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy God is one…

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.
— Genesis 1:1-5

They say that every masterpiece is a piece of the master, a reflection of the soul of its creator. Van Gogh, Michaelangelo, Frank Lloyd Wright; these and others gave us self-portraits in all their greatest works.

Then why was the earth created without form and void? Why did darkness cover the face of the deep? Why did the Spirit of God brood over the face of the waters?

Could it be that God painted a Self-portrait? Could it be that His heart was empty and void, that His Face was dark with tears, and that his Spirit was stirred by a great need?

Could it be that in the beginning, God ached?

But what could Almighty God possibly need?

And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.
— Genesis 1:26-27

With the mere utterance of a Word, God created the universe; planets, stars, sun and moon, black holes and nebulae, clouds, oceans, mountains, plants and animals.

But when He made mankind, He held His peace.

And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul. Genesis 2:7

He dug His hands deep into the soil of the newborn earth, and deeper still into His own heart. Out of what He found there, He fashioned the perfect body of a perfect man.

Then He blew into the nostrils His own Breath, Intellect, Spirit of Life, and the man became a living, breathing creature.

They say that every masterpiece is a piece of the master, and so humanity bore the image of the Living God, our Creator: A triune being with body, soul, and spirit; created to rule; intelligent and creative; a capacity for beauty and glory; and a capacity for love.

Just like God.

Good

“…and God saw that it was good.”

“Pristine” seems to be the best we can do to describe the splendor of unspoiled wilderness, yet how paltry a definition it is of that which God proclaims simply as “good”.

The light? Good.

The firmaments? Good

Land and sea, grass and herb, sun and moon? Good, good, good. Seven times God proclaims His creation “good”.

And then, it was not good.

How could anything in that world be called of God “not good”? There was no sin, wouldn’t be any until chapter three.

What was the flaw in God’s perfect creation of good things?

And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone… Genesis 2:18

They say that every masterpiece…

If man is in the image of God, and if it is not good for man to be alone, then…

…without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face… And the Spirit of God moved…

But how could it possibly be that God Almighty, Self-Existent, Infinite, Holy One could He have need of anything?

How could He be lonely?

And yet there it is, a Self-portrait of God as a picture of loneliness in a perfectly paired world.

If this is true, then mankind’s mission, purpose in life, and reason for existing is to fulfill the original, most profound and important need anywhere.

You and I exist to fill the loneliness of God.

One

Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one… Deut. 6:4, Mark 12:29

One God, God is One.

One… lone… alone… lonely.

Creatures He had, property in abundance, multitudes of servants both humble and fantastic, but He didn’t have the Other, the Companion, the Fulfillment. He was evening without morning, sun without moon. He didn’t have someone to love, and His infinite capacity for love could not go unanswered.

What was the daily scripture quoted by the ancient Hebrews? What was to be diligently taught to their children? What did God command to be bound to their heads and hands? What was rolled up, placed into a phylactery box and strapped onto their foreheads? What is the greatest commandment of all?

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord. And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might.” (Deut. 6:4-5, Mark 12:29-30)

“…The Lord thy God is One…” is more than a pronouncement of sovereignty, it is the cry of His heart.

God is asking you for your love. He commands you to fill His longing. In all the Word of God, both Old Testament and New, this one commandment supersedes all others; “Love Me!”

How are you doing with that?

When at last I come to the end of days, when all is past of life and ways,

His greatest command will try all that is true,

“Love Me!”, He calls.

My reply,

“I do.”

Chapter Two

Help Meet

And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.
— Genesis 2:18

And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field; but for Adam there was not found an help meet for him.
— Genesis 2:20

The image of God, king of the world, walked among the creatures of a new earth. Like his Father before him, he established dominion by naming all he would rule over. Cattle, fowl, and wild beasts, all were named, all were dominated.

But through the process, another idea began to take form in his perfect mind. Ethereal at first, then the blatant revelation:

Pairs… everything was in pairs. Male and female.

Adam knew he was king, knew he was male.

And now he knew he was alone.

Just like God.

And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.
— Genesis 2:21-25

Adam was one, lone, lonely.

Through his brilliant mind, his perfect heart, his deep soul swept this overwhelming realization, overpowering feeling, and the infinite ache of loneliness.

And he passed out.

The Lord God put him under a deep sleep, laid him out on the soft ground, and began to work on a cure for man’s greatest malady. He opened up the side of Adam and took out one of his ribs, the first shedding of blood ever recorded. From that piece of flesh He constructed a woman, a companion, a counterpart. She must be born not of earth nor animal, but of man. She must be fashioned not from his heel to be trampled on, nor from his head to rule over him, but from his side to walk with him. She must begin from close to his heart that she may love and be loved, that she may understand him, and do him good and not evil all the days of his life. She must be the perfect woman for the perfect man, compatible in every way, and she must be the cure for his loneliness.

Think of the perfect woman, flawless and complete in every conceivable way. Now multiply that by one hundred, and you still have but a caricature of the most beautiful creature this universe has ever seen; the sinless Eve.

When God had made her just the way He wanted, as His final and crowning creation, He brought her to Adam.

The world has never been the same.

And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.
— Genesis 2:23

“Arise, my son, I have Something for you.”

As he stood to his feet and opened his eyes, he saw his waking Dream, for there, walking down the path toward him, was the very vision of God become real. Before him, and just for him, was the Almighty’s idea of divine beauty to fulfill his every need, the most exquisite creature imaginable.

Eve, daughter of God.

Adam gasped, and felt his side. Brilliantly he deduced all that had transpired.

“Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.” Out of me, for me.

There must have been a part of him still in “king of the world” mode, because he felt the need to name It, and so claim dominion.

“She is Woman, because she was taken out of Man.”

There, that should do it.

Then she smiled.

When Eve smiled, the sun was put to shame. When she laughed, it seemed as though all creation quivered and giggled. When she called his name, he would give her his undivided attention and do anything she asked. And when she touched him….

Her skin was softer than warm butter. When she moved, her hair flowed like a field of ripe grain in a summer breeze. She had eyes that shone with depth, intelligence, and light that seemed to come from another realm. Flowers grew wherever she placed a delicate foot, and fruit appeared ripe and heavy when she passed by. She could run like the wind, swim without a ripple, and talk to the animals.

And she loved him.

With her whole and perfect heart, with an intelligence that flowed from using one hundred percent of her brain capacity, she loved and adored him. Body, soul, and spirit, she was his.

How completely she fulfilled him!

To work with her at his side made any labor a joy. To talk with her, listen to her voice, gain her perspective, was an education he never knew he had missed. To drink in her beauty, the very glory of her presence, filled his heart with ecstasy.

She would race off through the trees, look over her shoulder and flash him that smile. Did she have to speak aloud? Body language spoke volumes.

“Oh Adam,
Am I not beautiful?
Am I not desirable?
Will you pursue me?
If you catch me…
You can have me.”

Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh. And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.
— Genesis 2:24-25

Of all that Adam ruled, and all he held dear, nothing could compare to Eve. He couldn’t have been happier.

Yet there was found no help meet for God.

Chapter Three

Help Meet

Screams and curses ricocheted through the charged air on the hill outside Jerusalem. From the highest heaven to the gates of hell, attention was riveted on the figure writhing in agony on a cross. Angel legions stood with their toes hanging over the precipice of heaven, hands on swordhilt. Satan laughed and blasphemed, ecstatic over the opportunity to inflict pain upon God.

Jesus, King of glory, was drawing His final breath.

He knew He was king, He knew He was Man, and He knew He was alone.

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me”, a rhetorical question, was pulled from the written Word of God, Psalm 22, and quoted by the Living Word of God.

It was the old loneliness, the burden borne since eternity past, that was responsible

for these nails, this darkness and humiliation, this sacrifice.

Jesus was One, Lone, Lonely.

Through His brilliant mind, His perfect but broken heart, His deep soul, swept this overwhelming remembrance, this overpowering feeling, this infinite ache of loneliness.

Reproach hath broken my heart; and I am full of heaviness: and I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none. Psalm 69:20

When He had been stripped of absolutely everything, when He was utterly and infinitely alone, He closed His eyes, breathed out his last, and fell into the deep sleep of death.

His side was opened with a spear, and God took a part of Him, the greatest bloodshed ever recorded, and began to work on a cure for God’s greatest malady.

From that part of Him, the Father fashioned a helper, companion, counterpart for the Son. She must be born not of flesh, nor the will of man, but of God. She must be fashioned not from His heel to be trampled like the serpent, nor from His head to rule over His body, but from His side to walk with Him. She must flow from His heart that she may love and be loved, that she may understand Him, and do Him good and not evil for all eternity.

She must be without spot, wrinkle, or blemish, the perfect Bride for the perfect Bridegroom, compatible in every way.

And she must be the cure for His loneliness.

On the third day…

“Arise, My Son, I have Something for You.”

As the risen Lord looked upon what His sacrifice had purchased, He saw His waking Dream. On the path before Him was the very vision of God become real. Before Him, and just for Him, was the Almighty’s idea of divine beauty to fulfill His every need, the most exquisite creature imaginable.

The Church, Bride of Christ.

“This is My body, this is My blood.”

This is My Beloved.

When His Bride smiles, the sun is put to shame. When She laughs, it is as though heaven and earth quiver and giggle. When She calls the Name of Her Lord, He gives Her His undivided attention and does anything She asks. And when She touches Him….

Love grows wherever her beautiful feet go, and the fruit of the Spirit grows ripe and heavy in Her presence.

And She loves Him.

With Her whole and perfect heart, with the mind of Christ, She loves and adores Him. She is His.

How completely She fulfills Him!

To labor alongside Her, to talk with Her, hear Her voice, to drink in Her beauty, fills His heart with ecstasy.

And when She smiles…

“Oh my Lord,

Am I not beautiful?

Am I not desirable?

Will You pursue Me?

If you catch Me…

You can have Me.”

“I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine: he feedeth among the lilies.”
— Song of songs 6:3

I wrote this poem for the love of my life, the greatest soul I have ever met, my Wife, Evelyn Marie. She is my “Ismeral”, and this is my love song to her. (included in “The Glove of Rhonan”)

All my love.

Ismeral Bohnhi (Evelyn Marie)

I will sing of my love, my Ismeral Bohnhi,
With light in her eyes, lips sweet as honey.

Bloom on her cheek, shoulder as silk,
Temples of jewels, teeth white as milk.

To tell you of Sun, Moon, and Stars in the skies,
I will tell you of Ismeral with light in her eyes.

The Islands her anklet, the Forests her gown,
The Mountains her throne, the Heavens her crown.

The Deep for her Wisdom, Four Winds for her Breath,
Her smile is life, her scorn is death.

Clothed in Royal Gardens, perfumed with rare spice,
Is Ismeral, fair Ismeral with Light in her eyes.

A shake of her Head, her hair tumbles down,
Her tresses enslave me, chain me to her Crown.

With tenderest Bosom she soothes the Child,
With fiery passion she sets free the Wild.

The Song of her laughter, the brush of her hand,
And I am King, I am Conqueror, no mortal Man.

What worth have I to be double born, triple blest,
Crowned by her Vows, healed with her caress?

To feast at her Table, to drink from her Fountains,
Entitled to Seas, to Heavens and Mountains,

That the Light in her eyes should shine there for me,
With Heaven’s kiss from the lips of Ismeral Bohnhi!

Her strength empowers, her beauty refines,
She nurtures the common, bestows the Divine.

In her Earth meets Heaven, the Unseen the Seen,
She is Time and Eternity, Life, Wife, and Queen.

I am more than I was, less than I shall be,
Lifted by love of Ismeral Bohnhi.

So I sing of Ismeral with Light in her eyes,
Speak freely of Sun, Moon, and Stars in the skies.

Drunk with her love, quickened by her grace,
Invincible by her Hand, held captive by her face.

Rejoice blanded world, Enlightened now we see,
Lent to us Heaven’s Life and Love, Ismeral Bohnhi.

I am more than I was, less than I shall be, lifted by love of Evelyn Marie.

One of my favorite minor characters in “The Glove of Rhonan” is a small dragon named Aven. Her character and her grief have made her great.

(Ashpelk is the newly returned Kingdragon “good guy”, Ost is the tyrant Faldimon’s Kingdragon general “bad guy”, and all dragonkind new the short prophecy that predicted Ashpelk’s return to their lands)

Aven was ready. She had asked, even pleaded for this assignment, and was completely prepared. She had practiced at every opportunity among the peaks and the tall trees, honing her skills, making her plans, and saying her prayers. Now at last, at long last, the Day had arrived. She was so excited that she couldn’t be still, and her heart was aflutter in her breast. So it was, when she heard the sound of battle, that with the greatest of enthusiasm she launched herself from a high ledge among the peaks of Bohnhi and flew swiftly toward the chaos unfolding in the narrow pass below.

Flying close to the cliffs, she used updrafts to maintain altitude and jagged rocks for cover as she made her way into striking range. She went over her plan again mentally for the hundredth time. She knew her talons were sharp, her glands were full, and her heart was prepared. All she needed was her target.

There it was! Her sharp eyes had located the center of the melee below, and easily spotted the object of her mission. Faldimon stood amid a tangled mass of soldiers and swarthians, battling against a group of her kinsmen, the dragons. She could see the glint of swinging steel and the flash of dragonfire as she circled high overhead, a mere speck in the sky from the battlefield below. She could see her flying kinsmen darting in and out of the battle, doing what damage they could, and trying to draw the attention of Faldimon’s personal guard away from him.

Aven dropped in altitude and banked against the breeze to take careful aim at her target, Faldimon.

Faldimon  - tyrant over as many peoples as he could conquer; Faldimon  - who had taken the life of her precious Shara with no more thought than if she had been an insect; Faldimon  - who dared to wear Ashpelk’s Climmon! Well, today he would reap a bit of what he had sown, as a small, determined dragon streaked through the mountain air.

She would hit him on the right side, away from the Glove, and do as much damage to him as she possibly could before… well, before she was with Shara again.

There he was, directly in front of her. She saw Faldimon barking orders to his guards as the battle swirled around him, and saw with pride her fellow dragons fighting with great ferocity. Carefully selecting her angle of attack, she adjusted her speed and focused all her attention on her target.

Coming in fast and low from behind Faldimon’s right shoulder, the tiny dragon plowed into her foe with all her might, knocking him instantly to the ground. She leaped on him before he could recover, sinking her needle-sharp claws into his right arm. Faldimon screamed in pain and turned to look at his attacker. Face to face with her enemy, Aven spewed the total contents of her glands at him. She snapped at his ears, clawed at his eyes, and battered him with her wings, venting her rage and taking her revenge.

Then he had her. Gripping her by the back leg with the crushing power of the Climmon Hur, Faldimon slung her to the ground and aimed the Glove at her. Lurching to the side, she barely escaped being torched by the blast from the Climmon, the force knocking many swarthians into the air.

But she was quick, she was determined, and she could feel the smile of Providence on her heart.

She jumped toward him, and with a mighty flap of her tattered wings once again latched onto her enemy. Once again she found herself in the clutches of the Glove, this time wrapped around her neck and breast. A cursing Faldimon held her at arm’s length and prepared to slam her onto the ground, but just before he did, she was able to let fly one last puff of air, and a small ball of fire.

What joy filled her heart as she watched, seemingly in slow motion, as her enemy’s acid-covered face ignited in flames. She was still laughing even when she was thrown to the ground. Although lying broken and crumpled like an old parchment, through her pain she could hear her foe calling for help, calling for Ost, the traitor.

With great effort she rolled onto her back, and looking up, saw the most beautiful blue sky she had ever seen. She remembered the fat mice she and Shara used to hunt together and wondered if the mice were fat where Shara was.

Then she saw the sinister face of Ost. He was mouthing something at her that she couldn’t hear, but she didn’t care. She watched in detachment as Ost raised his huge clawed foot over her, but before he could bring it crashing down, she screamed out a message of her own.

“Ashpelk returns!”

The last thing she saw was most gratifying; a flash of fear in the eyes of Ost.

I am small
Everything outside me, bigger.
But, everything inside me, bigger still!

~Aven