by Levi Samuel
Ravion held the cloak tight, locking the chilling wind out. He took his first step into Dalmoura, making sure his foot was secure in the snow covered peaks. Again he stepped, each time moving closer to possible answers. His feet firm against the sloping, dangerous ground, he walked carefully, making his way into the strange new lands.
Near the base of the large mountain range he came across a weather worn sign planted firmly in the dirt at the side the winding mountain road.
“Tresengal sixty miles. Aldridge thirty miles” He read aloud, glancing both directions. It would take a while to reach either city, but closer was always better. At least until he gathered his bearings.
Chapter V
Wrath of Dragons
The sounds of slaughter echoed through the trees, announcing the smell of smoke in the air. It was just beginning to settle, catching the rays of sunlight and layering the grove in a thick cloud.
Demetrix covered his ears trying to block out the frightening noise. The screams lingered long after they’d stopped. He could barely see his sister through the smoke. He couldn't hear her words, but she was clearly screaming at him. A figure appeared behind her, more shadow than man. Demetrix lifted his trembling hand, extending his finger toward the man.
What's he pointing at? The nearing footsteps caught her attention. Alexzandra spun around to face the sun-gleamed edge of a sword hovering over her, poised to strike. The keen blade fell, sending a sharp pain through her chest. With a spray of blood, she fell, landing roughly in a patch of daisies.
Demetrix stood frozen at the spectacle. Is she dead? Who is he? Why does he want to hurt us? He glared at the man, unable to take his eyes off the tall figure.
The man stepped toward him, sword in hand, ready to cut the child down as he had his sister.
Demetrix watched in horror. The echoes of pain and fear began to fade, replaced by the sound of hooves. A rider appeared through the fog, moving quicker than anything he'd seen before. The horseman drew an unusual, dark-colored sword. As fast as he'd drawn it, he brought it down cleaving the malicious man in half.
The slender figure stood motionless for a long moment. He took a step forward and fell face first into the dense grass.
The horseman continued on, coming to a stop a few feet past the children. He jumped from his saddle and approached slowly. “Demetrix, do not fear me. My name's Meaius. I'm here to help.” The horseman cleaned and sheathed his wide sword.
The dalari child stared intently at the weapon as it disappeared into the leather cover. He’d seen many swords before, but this one was different. It was made of a black metal and nearly twice as wide as his practice sword.
The blade firmly secured in its sheath, Demetrix studied the man himself. He wore black armor with an hourglass inscribed on the left breastplate. Despite his dark clothing and armor, the man had a familiar glow about him, almost white in color. Demetrix had seen such a glow before, but never white. The man's features were clearly human but he felt— different. “My sister.” Demetrix gestured toward her limp form, half-buried in the grass a few feet from the dead assailant.
“I fear there's not much I can do for her, but I’ll try.” Meaius turned and scooped the girl up. Carrying her back to the boy, he laid her on her back and placed his gloved hand above her chest. Closing his eyes, he whispered a quiet chant. A glowing light radiated between the two, soaking into the wound. As carefully as he could, he picked her up and gently laid her over the horse. With ease, he placed his foot in the stirrup and swung, positioning himself in the black colored saddle.
Looking down, he extended his hand to the boy. “You coming?” He was a squat little thing, maybe four seasons. If he only knew how important he was.
Demetrix took the outstretched hand and felt himself fly up into the saddle. Wiggling into place, he positioned himself at the rear so he could hold his sister still.
Meaius gave a light prod, the dark-brown horse launched forward in a smooth transition. Moments later they were deep in the forest, leaving the boy's former life behind. Meaius looked back, watching the heavy plume of smoke grow smaller with the distance. Not much longer and it would disappear entirely behind the height of the trees.
The sun was setting on the horizon when the horse finally slowed to a stop. Demetrix felt his legs throb with the change in pace. His backside was inflamed from the trip. It wasn’t often he’d been atop a horse, much less spent the better part of a day on one.
Meaius climbed down and helped the boy from the saddle. Kicking a pile of leaves together, he carefully placed Alexzandra in the make-shift bed.
Demetrix knelt down, searching the tear in her dress. It was discolored from dried blood, but he couldn’t find a wound anywhere. Did the man heal her? How is that possible?
“You’re both from a strong race. While her body has healed, the wound cut much deeper than flesh. If she’s to survive, it’ll be by her own will. There’s nothing more anyone can do for her. At least until she chooses to wake up.” Meaius reached into his saddlebag and grabbed a thin, leather pouch. Unrolling it, he removed a piece of dried meat and handed it to the boy.
Demetrix snatched the meat from his hand and took a bite. It was a bit tough, but it was food. He wasn’t used to skipping meals. Truth be told, he wasn’t used to any of this. Realization set in. How long will it be until I eat again? Slowing himself, he tore off a small piece and began chewing, stuffing the remainder in his pocket.
“I’m glad to see you have wisdom beyond your years. Your father has taught you well. But you don’t have to ration just yet. We’ll camp for the night. We're about a mile from Eastwood. It won't be a long trip in the morning. When we arrive, I’ll make arrangements for you to join a caravan.”
The boy stared up at Meaius. The man knew something he wasn’t saying. “Why can’t we go home?”
“I’m sorry but your home is gone. Your family was in hiding. I tried to reach your father before the alfar got there, but it was too late. Had he not asked me to get you as far away from there as possible, I would have helped him hold them off. Which brings us to the next point; your people are being hunted by the hydralfar. They saw me leave so I’d imagine they’ll be searching for me now. When we reach Eastwood, we must part ways so I can draw them away from you.”
“Why do they want to kill me? I didn’t do anything to them.”
Meaius shredded a few twigs and placed them in a pile. “Life isn’t always fair. People tend to fear things they don’t understand. That fear often turns to hatred, and before long they start making mistakes they can’t take back.” He paused for a moment, striking his flint. The sparks landed in the tinder and began to smoke. He gave a slow and steady breath, watching the flame flare to life, burning away the twigs. Adding a few larger sticks to the small ember, he continued, “Long ago, a small faction of your people made bad choices, which resulted in dark times for all of us. Unfortunately you’re being forced to pay for those mistakes.” The flame grew into a sustainable fire. “Would you like to do me a favor? Don’t go too far, but gather some firewood, nothing bigger than your arm.” Meaius gave a light smile, watching the boy step into the shadows.
The city of Eastwood bustled with merchants and travelers going about their daily lives. A steady roar of voices echoed in the air, preventing any one from standing out above the others. The stench of manure radiated from the steady supply of livestock and horses being led along the roads. Some pulled carts or wagons, while others were ushered into stalls for sale and trade.
Demetrix sat at the rear of the enclosed wagon, watching out the open gate. He mindlessly kicked his legs, dangling over the edge while Meaius negotiated their deal. The dark armored man had a way about him that the others respected, or possibly feared. He couldn't be sure.
The two men paused for a moment, looking over at the seemingly human child innocently watching them.
“You'll take them as far as Ickula?”
“Aye. Though I don't know why you'd send them there. Not
hin' but thieves and cut-throats, since the alfar marched through.”
“Don't concern yourself with that. Ozmodius works in mysterious ways.”
“Whatever you say. I'm getting paid. That's all I care about.”
“That you are. And extremely well, I might add. Don't let anything befall them.”
“You have nothin' to worry about. I've made the trip three times this year. Not so much as a broken wheel along the way.”
“Good. Give me a word with them and I'll be on my way.”
“I've already been paid. Do what you want.”
Meaius approached the boy with a half-hearted smile. “Are you ready to go?”
“I guess. I'm not sure why we can't stay with you. You could protect us.”
“I've other duties to attend. Besides, you'd grow tired of me after a while. I'm quite boring once you get to know me.” He ruffled the boy's hair, laughing.
“I don't think so. I bet you could defeat anyone that came after us.” He nodded to the broadsword sheathed on Meaius' hip.
“I'd try at the very least. But I've found it more effective to try and talk to an opponent first. You'd be surprised how many problems can be resolved with a few sensible words. Besides, if words fail you can always fight afterword. That's one lesson I hope you remember, Demetrix. A premature sword slice cannot be undone. It's a warrior's duty to understand what he's fighting for and to decide if it's worth killing for. If you don't understand these two things, you're no better than the men you morally tower over. Nevertheless, take this. You never know when it may come in handy.”
Demetrix took the dagger. It was made from the same dark material as the broadsword. Tucking it into his pants, he wrapped his arms around the armored warrior and hugged him tight.
“I'll miss you, too. Now, let's get you tucked away. It's a three month journey to Ickula and you'll need your rest.” Meaius waited for the boy to lay back and close his eyes. “Safe travels, Demetrix. I look forward to our next meeting.” He latched the wooden gate and unrolled the canvas flap to block out the sunlight.
His eyes shot open with the violent crash. How am I supposed to sleep with the constant bumps and screeching wagon wheels? He sat up and looked over at his sister, lying unconscious atop a pile of fur. She looked much better than she had, but he was beginning to worry she wouldn't ever wake up. Getting to his feet, Demetrix moved to the rear of the wagon and pulled the flap to the side. A brown horse with white spots trotted several feet behind them, attached to a wagon in tow. A human sat atop the coach, directing the horse.
“Be careful, boy. One wrong move and you’ll fall. I doubt the wagon master will be able to stop before the horses trample you.”
He glanced to the man on horseback beside the wagon. The man wore tan leather armor and carried a sword at his side. Ducking beneath the flap, Demetrix returned to his spot and laid down.
The wagon hit another bump, bouncing his head off the wooden sidewall. Anger shot through him. He sat up hearing the strangest sound he’d ever heard. The noises outside the wagon intensified. The shouts of men and the whinny of horses echoed through the thick canvas top. Some sped up while the wagons seemed to slow. The noise echoed again, chilling him to the bone. It sounded like a massive roar, wrung out over a great distance. A blast of wind hit the side of the wagon, threatening to tear the top away from its supports. Screams echoed all around. Demetrix jumped up and headed toward the flap. A powerful crash hit the side of the wagon, toppling it over. He crashed into the cloth liner, feeling it tear under his forceful weight. Sunlight flashed into his vision for the briefest of moments, replaced by shadow. He crashed through branches and leaves, landing hard in the packed dirt of the forest floor. Rolling several times, he tried to stop himself. His arms buckled under the motion, useless to him. Pain shot through his body, slamming into the base of a thick tree. His vision faded to black.
The sweet scent of rotting meat roused him. His eyes shot open and he searched for anything to tell him where he was. The ground was hard and jagged reminding him of the rocks along the edge of the river, though he clearly wasn't there. The air was cold and damp, but he didn't feel a breeze.
The cavern was larger than any he'd seen before. Discarded weapons littered the underground terrain, pieces of their owners with them. The stone floor was caked in a thick, soupy mixture of blood and dirt. Along the walls, piles of gold, silver, and gems were stacked perfectly into grand pyramids.
Demetrix heard a deep rumble from inside the cavern. He sat up, searching for its source. His head throbbed, but the cool air was slightly soothing, aside from the rancid stench that filled his lungs with each breath. He couldn't see as well as he was used to. Even the caves around the river weren't as dark as this one. It was expected for his kind to see in pitch-black. This wasn't natural.
Two thin yellow lines appeared at the far end of the chamber, rapidly growing into massive orbs several times larger than the child.
He peered up the massive glowing— eyes? A deep fear enveloped him, stronger than any fear he'd felt before. Yet somehow he was able to control it. He was scared, that much was certain. But it felt as if a stronger force pushed back. Something inside him was protecting him from it.
“Yes— Yes, there it is.” The deep, gravelly voice shook the cavern to its core. “I knew I smelled a dalari among all those humans. Tell me, boy. Where were you going?”
He stared at the disembodied orbs, feeling the bass of the voice thrum throughout his body. Should I answer? Why does it want to know? “That's none of your business. Where's my sister?” Demetrix clenched his fists, demanding an answer.
Sinister laughter echoed throughout the stone chamber, knocking several of the stalactites from the ceiling. They crashed down, breaking against the equally hardened floor. “You amuse me, Son of Esoteric. Though do not mistake my amusement for patience. Why was a child of the dalari in the company of a band of human traders?”
Why do you want to know?” He squinted his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the creature in the shadow.
“Again, you answer with a question. I'll make you a deal. Answer me and I'll let you go. You can return to whatever life you came from. You can even take as much treasure from this place as you can carry to ease you in your living.”
He searched the shadow, studying the silence. What can it learn from the truth? It's not like I have some big secret. And the treasure would help to find Alexzandra. “How do I know you're telling the truth?” No sooner than the question escaped his lips the shadow moved closer, resolving into a huge scale-covered snout with four barbed horns curving around the creature's head. Two extended out and wrapped around like those of a ram while the other two arched up and back, lining the sides of its massive head. Hundreds of teeth, each one larger than his entire body, lined its clenched maw. Its nostrils pulsed, as if it were smelling him.
“Because, I'm a dragon. And dragons always keep their word.”
Demetrix took in the sight of the great black. He couldn't understand how he was able to resist fleeing at the beast's sight. Every muscle in his body wanted to run as far and as fast as he could in the opposite direction, but he held fast trusting the feeling in his gut.
“Do we have an agreement?” The dragon cocked its head, awaiting response.
“Fine. I'll answer your question. But I want to know what you've done with my sister before I leave.”
“You have my word. Now, let's see— Two bodies I have, though both joined in one. The longer I wait, the more I run. What am I?”
“But— That wasn't your question. You asked where I was going.”
“I changed my question. Do you forfeit?”
“No— I— That's not fair.”
“Who told you life was fair? Answer my question or you forfeit.”
“Two bodies, one. Longer I wait, the more I— Is it a wagon?”
“A wagon? How would it be a wagon?”
“Well, if you have two people in a wagon, they become one. And if y
ou're riding, then the longer you wait, the longer it runs.”
“I weep for today's youth. Didn't your parents teach you anything about your creators? It's an hourglass. The symbol of Ozmodius. The king of the gods? Is any of this ringing a bell?”
“Nope. I still think it's a wagon.”
“It's not a damned wagon!” The dragon snapped, slamming his clenched fist into the rocky floor. Calming himself, he returned his attention to the child. “But I'll set your mind at ease. I haven't done anything with your sister. Had I known there were two of you, she'd be right beside you.”
He felt fear begin to overcome him. Where is she? If the dragon didn't take her, what had happened to her? Is she alive? He felt tears begin to steam down his face. “Why'd you bring me here?”
“Let's just say I have plans for you. Maybe not today, nor tomorrow, but one day you'll play a valuable part in the grand scheme of things.”
“So I'm to stay here until you have need of me?” Demetrix reached down, wrapping his hand around the dagger Meaius had given him.
“Heavens, no. You're free to roam. I've no use for one kept out of touch with the world above. You need to be familiar with their customs.”
“What if I refuse to help you?”
“You act like you have a choice. You answered wrong. Your life is mine now.”
Demetrix glared his hatred at the dragon. “I won't help you. You can kill me a thousand times over. I'll never do anything you ask.”
“I'm not asking.”
Drawing the dagger, Demetrix flung it as hard as he could. Without pause, he charged toward the dragon. He'd escape or it’d kill him. Either way, he'd be free.
The dagger stuck, sinking to the hilt in the dragon's eye. It roared in pain, feeling the mythical ore pull at his core. He fumbled with the blade, trying to pluck it from his ruined eye. Anger flooded him. How did I not smell he had darkstone? Spinning around in the crowded cavern he sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold. Searching for the boy's scent, it was nearing fresh air. He was getting away. With tremendous force, he exhaled, shooting a nauseous cloud of green vapor into the passageway. “Run all you like, I'll find you, you little brat! It may take me a thousand years, but we'll meet again!”
