by A. J. Walker
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
DRAGON WARS: WAR OF THE MAGICIANS
First edition. October 22, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 A J Walker.
ISBN: 978-1386009481
Written by A J Walker.
Chapter One
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Merglan’s Ride
MERGLAN LEANED FORWARD, HIS armored chestplate resting against the rigid scales of his dragon’s neck. His dark eyes remained keenly fixed on the castle turrets rising high above the city walls. Dawn’s cold air rushed over his face, the chill reddening his pale cheeks.
Keeping his focus on the sleeping castle, Merglan began to meld his mind with that of his dragon’s, their separate consciousness combining into one seamless stream of thought. Merglan harnessed the energy flowing between their bond and guided it out over the capital city. When combined, the young sorcerer and his dragon’s magic could be used to locate individuals with merely their minds. Sweeping through the vast collection of Kingston’s citizens, Merglan searched for a select few. He felt the familiar burning of the King’s thoughts, heavy with worldly decisions. King Kaufen and his throne were targets on Merglan’s hit list, but that’s not who he was currently searching for; he sought Kaufen’s son—the prince.
Approaching from the north and flying low over the water, Merglan steered his dragon, Killdoor, over Kingston’s port. The crimson sails of the royal navy lined the nation of Southland’s chief port. Kaufen’s ships glistened in the growing light of the rising sun. Resembling targets, the red cloth dotted the bay’s shoreline. Merglan’s mind shifted away from his search for the prince. The young sorcerer and his dragon had pinpointed the aims for their initial attack on the capital city.
Killdoor glided effortlessly toward the anchored ships below. Unhinging his jaws, he let loose a stream of fire that chased the shadows of dawn from the darkened port. The direct impact from the jetting flames burst the lead ship apart before igniting the rest of the fleet ablaze. Killdoor easily destroyed the remaining ships in Kaufen’s naval fleet with three more passes of his dragon fire.
With a clack of his enormous jaws, the black dragon extinguished his lethal stream of fire. Merglan focused his mind back to locating the prince within the city walls. Most of Kingston’s citizens remained asleep, with the exception of those who’d been rudely awakened by Killdoor’s blaze. Merglan searched through the remaining minds within Kingston’s walls, but couldn’t locate his former friend.
Prince William and Merglan had grown up together in Kaufen’s castle. Merglan’s father was chief alchemist to the king. Since the prince and Merglan were so close in age, they spent most of their childhood playing together. Merglan considered him to be his closest friend. William often spoke of how they’d one day rule the kingdom side by side. He’d be William’s right-hand man. They were meant to rule the world together, or so he thought. One day, William’s attention became distracted when he met a girl and began to ignore his closest friend. It was innocent jealousy at first, but Merglan’s thoughts quickly darkened. His hatred for the prince’s fiancée grew as the two fell deeper in love.
Killdoor laughed with despicable elation as he flew over the city walls. His excitement for the destruction of humans had never thrilled him so much as this. Despite Merglan’s frustrations for not being able to find the prince or his fiancée, he gained some satisfaction from Killdoor’s sense of pure joy for destruction. If he couldn’t locate the prince with his newfound powers, he’d have to do it the old-fashioned way, by storming the castle.
Steering him low over the wooden shingled houses, Merglan commanded Killdoor to let loose his will of death. Opening his mighty jaws once more, the dragon poured his flames like molten lava as they flew. The flames shone brightest from within Killdoor’s throat as the brilliant display of electric green came jetting out from the rear of his mouth. The tight spit of flames then turned white before the blue that leapt out past his fangs. Next, the terrible orange-and-red flames billowed twice the length of his enormous black body and washed over the buildings below.
Merglan, blinded by hatred, cared little for the lives of the people who they were affecting. He’d made up his mind the moment he’d left Kingston those two years ago. If his closest friend could betray him for the whims of a pathetic, weak-willed girl, then all hope was lost for the kingdom.
A grin grew wide across Merglan’s face as he heard the frenzied ringing of the castle’s warning bells. The high-pitched sounds had never been so kind to Merglan’s ears. He welcomed the alarms, rejoicing in his long-awaited homecoming.
As Killdoor continued to set the city ablaze, Merglan steered him toward Kaufen’s castle. Approaching the castle walls near the center of Kingston, Merglan could see the king’s guards assembling along the battlements. He felt them with his mind as they made ready their bows. Killdoor chuckled as they flew closer, knowing full well that the arrows shot by the humans couldn’t harm him through his thick scales. They were as good as dead.
Merglan felt the drawing of hundreds of bows as the archers took aim in their direction. During his training with Killdoor in Northland, he learned to use his magic so he could easily deflect a host of arrows raining down on him, but Merglan came up with a more unique solution to extinguish the threat.
Gathering a large store of combined energy from Killdoor, Merglan focused his mind on the taut string of every bowman along the battlements. When Killdoor drew near enough to draw their fire, Merglan released the focused channel of energy. A resounding twang came from the bows. The archers never got their chance to fire; Merglan had used his power to cut every string in two, sending many of the unsuspecting archers stumbling back in surprise.
Merglan loosed a wicked laugh as Killdoor showered the castle walls with flames. He knocked down portions of the charred wall as they flew beyond, his large tail plowing through the top of the castle’s defenses.
Killdoor came booming down, landing hard in the center of the castle’s courtyard. The stone slabs cracked and shifted under the weight of his muscular body. Many guards standing by, armed and at the ready, fled in fear when they laid eyes on the enormous dragon. Killdoor expelled a vicious roar and washed the courtyard in plumes of fire. Those unable to escape his wrath were charred to a crisp in his deadly wake.
Merglan dismounted the black dragon and strode across the familiar courtyard with purpose. He swept the castle once more with his mind, searching for William or his fiancée, but the only foe he recognized was Southland’s worthless King—King Kaufen. He marched toward the main entrance of the castle’s keep and placed a hand on the door, trying to force it open. The doors didn’t budge.
Does that old fool really think barring the doors will deter me? The nerve, Merglan said sarcastically to Killdoor through their connected minds.
He sighed with disappointment and took several steps back. Spreading his legs shoulder width apart, he braced himself. Merglan lifted his palm, stretching it out past his chest. He closed his eyes as he summoned the energy within him. Pressing his arm forward in a rapid motion, a wave of white energy flowed from the heel of his palm, spreading like lightning into the keep’s wooden doors. When the energy collided with the wood, it pulverized the stout slabs into a vast array of splinters that flew violently into the keep.
A crowd of armed soldiers inside the keep’s entrance was met by the burst of wooden shrapnel. The few left standing and unharmed by the explosion charged at the young sorcerer, shouting as they wielded their swords high above their heads. Merglan stepped calmly through the destroyed entrance as they rushed closer. He didn’t bother reaching for his blade, but rather sn
apped their necks with a twist of his wrist. The men fell instantly to the ground.
Stepping over the bodies of the dead men, Merglan recalled from memory where the royal family’s chambers were. He climbed the stairs leading him closer to William’s room, encountering several groups of castle guards along the way. Dispatching them in the same way he’d killed the remaining soldiers in the entrance hall, Merglan continued his hunt for the prince.
He came to a halt outside William’s bedroom door. Memories from his childhood flashed through his head. Angrily brushing them aside, he kicked in the door with his heavy boot. Finding the same results as his mental search, the prince was nowhere to be found. From the look of the emptied closet and chests, he’d left some time ago and was truly not hiding within the city walls.
“Agh!” Merglan voiced with rage. Storming from the prince’s room, Merglan was about to leave the royal chambers when a sudden noise caught his attention. He reached out with his mind and discovered Kaufen’s presence in the next room down the hall.
Merglan loathed the King almost as much as the prince. Kaufen often kept Merglan’s father so busy with his work as an alchemist that he never had a moment for his son. More infuriating was the king’s endorsement for the prince to marry the girl William had become so enthralled with.
King Kaufen had let his grip on the three nations of humanity loosen with his old age. The Rollo Islands had named their chief as their leader and Westland had all but stopped sending young men for the King’s troops. Kaufen had spent too much time away from the battlefield and allowed the lesser Kingdoms to begin to govern themselves. Merglan knew an iron fist must rule if the King were to remain in control of the three nations.
He strode the short distance to the room the King had locked himself in. He held up his palm once more and was about to summon the energy to shatter the door to pieces like he’d done in the keep, when he realized how many people that stunt had killed. If he were going to kill the king, he at least wanted to see the look in Kaufen’s eyes as he took his life. Instead of releasing the energy through his palm, he brought his fingers into a tight ball as he formed a fist. Rapping his knuckles in quick succession on the wooden door, Merglan listened for a response. After a moment of hesitation, he could hear several pairs of feet shuffling and the hushed whispers.
Soon, the King’s muffled voice came through the door, “Who is it?”
Merglan raised his voice so the King could hear him clearly through the wooden barrier, “It’s Merglan!” After a moment’s pause, he added, “Didn’t you recognize me with my new dragon or have you forgotten about me after two years away from the castle?”
“Merglan? You left two weeks ago, and without notice. Suddenly you come back with a dragon, causing chaos and destruction to my city. Have you lost your mind, boy?!” the King shouted.
Kaufen’s recollection caused Merglan to hesitate; he’d been gone for two years. He ventured north to the land where no one had ever returned. He met Killdoor and the Norfolk. They’d trained him in the arts of magic after he and Killdoor became bonded. Surely that couldn’t have all happened in two weeks time.
He shook off the King’s words as a mere trick to elude him and continued, “I’m not a fool, Kaufen. I won't fall for your tricks. Now open this door, or else!”
“Merglan, where is your reason? Why are you doing this?”
“You are a plague on this kingdom! You’ve let the other nations rise to their own power and they’re going to secede from our rule. You and your son must pay for what you’ve done!” Merglan growled hatefully. He took a step back from the doorway, wrapping his fist as if it were around the door handle. He released the energy he’d summoned, pulling it off its hinges. He sidestepped the door as it flew past him, slamming with a loud thud into the stone hallway behind him.
Kaufen stood shocked amidst a dozen armed guards that surrounded him. Merglan slid into the doorway as he locked eyes with the king.
“Kill the traitor!” Kaufen ordered his men through clenched teeth.
The guards drew their swords and ran toward Merglan. He stood, legs splayed in the entranceway, fearless. The young sorcerer brandished his sword for the first time since he’d began his attack on the city. With inhuman speed, his blade flicked and danced gracefully as he blocked and slashed at Kaufen’s men. Within seconds, Merglan had slain the King’s guards with the precision and skill of a veteran swordsman.
A look of horror crossed Kaufen’s face as he realized Merglan was not the same person he’d been two weeks prior, when he left the castle in a spit of rage. The alchemist’s son had changed and become filled with hatred during his brief absence.
The noble King met his enemy with pride. Drawing his blade from its scabbard, Kaufen said, “You might wear this crown, but you’ll never be King.”
Merglan narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment. Leaping forward, he attacked, the tip of his sword piercing the King’s heart. As he watched the life fade from Kaufen’s eyes, Merglan stole the crown from the dying king’s head.
Merglan held the crown in his hand as he descended the steps from the royal chambers. When he came into view of the entrance hall, a single man stood in the room. Surrounded by the bodies of the dead soldiers, the cloaked man concealed his identity with his deep hood. Merglan hesitated for a moment; he couldn’t register who the man was by using his mind. Whoever it was had been trained to seal off their thoughts from sorcerers like him. He could sense the extent of his powers were nothing compared to that of his own and Killdoor, so Merglan continued down the stone steps.
“Move,” Merglan commanded the hooded man as he approached him. The man shifted his weight, but did not move. “You’ll move out of my way if you know what’s good for you.”
Before Merglan could act on removing the man from his path, the stranger revealed his identity. Gray-haired and balding, the familiar wrinkled face of his father, Kaufen’s alchemist, stood between him and the keep’s entrance.
“Father?” Merglan said surprised.
“Merglan, listen to me. Whatever you’re doing you must it stop at once.”
Still in shock at seeing his father after all these years, Merglan hesitated, unable to say anything in response.
“That will never bring you joy, not the way in which you’ve taken it,” his father said, pointing to the crown still clutched in Merglan’s left hand.
Merglan found his anger once more, allowing him to speak his mind, “What do you know of my desires?” he spat.
“I know there is a hole in your heart; a hole I created. Let me help you,” he pleaded, holding his hands out at his sides.
“So now you want to pretend to be my father. Now that I’ve become powerful, you want to be there for me?”
“I’ve not been the best father to you, Son, but I’m here now. Come; don’t let the darkness consume you.” He stepped closer to his son, arms spread wide in offering for an embrace.
Merglan awkwardly leaned in to receive his father’s hug. As he did so, Merglan let the tip of his blade rise. He stuck it slowly into his father’s midsection. The blade slid effortlessly through flesh as Merglan drew him in with one arm around his back. Twisting the sword with a spin of his wrist, he held his father’s head next to his. Hot blood trickled onto his sword hand as he whispered into his ear, “You’re too late, Father. I am the darkness.”
He released his grip, kicking the alchemist off his sword and sending him falling to the floor. With one swift motion, he stabbed his father in the heart, bringing him to a swift and bitter end. Stepping over the dead body, Merglan placed the king’s crown atop his head and exited the keep.
Killdoor waited patiently for his counterpart among the charred wreckage and smoldering bodies in the courtyard. He dropped a shoulder low to the ground, allowing Merglan to climb atop him easily. Together, they took flight in the bright light of a new day. He could easily see the wreckage they’d caused to the city during the early morning’s dawn. Killdoor flew low as Merglan displa
yed their triumphant victory to the people of Kingston. He made sure to pass over them low enough so they could clearly see the crown shining on his brow.
Coming to land once more in the charred courtyard of the castle, Merglan entered the keep for a second time. This time he and Killdoor met no resistance. He strode confidently across the keep and flung open the doors to the throne room. At the far end of the room, the gilded chair sat unoccupied. Merglan sauntered up to the iconic symbol of power and sat down squarely. He nestled into his new position of power as the self-proclaimed King of the human race.
Chapter Two
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Theodor
THEODOR STRODE DOWN THE cobbled streets of his hometown along Southland’s northern coast. A chill from the morning breeze wafted in off the ocean. The familiar smell of fresh fish being brought to market filled his nostrils as the wind ruffled the sand-colored locks around his neck. The odor was a stinging reminder of how much he would miss this place over the coming months. He loved living in Lubrecht and didn’t want to leave.
The long summer days were drawing to an end as the season changed and autumn began to settle in. Since the death of the King, a great war had begun enveloping nearly all of Kartania, and however desperately Theodor wanted nothing to do with it, his father told him otherwise. The sorcerer who’d killed the King and taken control of Kingston had become occupied elsewhere in Kartania and had not returned to the capital city for some time. After several months, the regent who was elected to take control of Southland in the King’s stead had begun rebuilding the king’s army. When word reached his father’s ears that the regent was calling for anyone willing and able to serve for their cause, he offered his son at the drop of a hat. Theodor’s father had served when he was younger, so in his eyes, it was his only son’s turn to carry on the legacy in their country’s time of need.
