Champions of the Dragon: (Humorous Fantasy) (Epic Fallacy Book 1)

by Michael James Ploof

  “You have meddled in my affairs one too many times, my old friends,” said the wizard, and he raised his staff as if to cleave the earth.

  “Zuul has a message for the championsss,” hissed one of the darklings.

  Murland and Gibrig exchanged glances.

  “He has the ones named Hagus, Caressa, Valkimir, and…Dingleberry.”

  Kazimir looked back at the companions, who shared surprised glances.

  “Enough of your lies, denizens of the d—”

  “Zuul will kill them all unless you travel to the Twisted Tower. You have until the new moon.”

  With that, the darklings all leapt into the air as four hideous winged beasts glided over the clearing and snatched them up. As they flew beyond the tree line and west toward the fading stars, the group all began asking Kazimir questions at the same time.

  “What did he mean, he’s got Val?” Brannon demanded.

  “Not poor little Dingleberry!” Willow was saying over and over.

  “Pap? Why would he have me pap?” Gibrig asked.

  “Silence!” said Kazimir, and his voice sent birds flying from trees.

  “Kazimir, what does Zuul want with me pap?” Gibrig demanded with uncharacteristic anger.

  “It seems that Zuul is once again trying to stop the champions from reaching Bad Mountain.”

  “But why would he want to do that?” Sir Eldrick asked.

  “Zuul wants to see the world burn. He wishes for us to fail so that Drak’Noir will ravage the world,” said Kazimir gravely.

  “Do you think that he really has them?” Murland asked, concerned for Caressa.

  “It cannot be known for sure,” said Kazimir, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully. “But rest assured, I will investigate this matter, and if indeed he has taken them, I will free them and return them home. You must all continue to the Wide Wall. Do not let this distraction slow you down.”

  “We lost the mounts to a bad storm,” said Sir Eldrick. “The going is going to be slower until we get some new ones.”

  “Lost your mounts?” said Kazimir, glancing around. “Hmm, well that will have to be remedied.”

  “Can ye bring ‘em back?” Gibrig begged.

  “Yeah, whoosh ‘em here,” said Willow with a grin.

  “Silence!” said Kazimir. He pulled out his wand and closed his eyes.

  They all waited anxiously as he spoke the spell words.

  There was a loud pop, a puff of smoke, and a whoosh.

  When the smoke cleared, the lost mounts were all standing together. Upon Sir Eldrick’s mount sat a small troll, who gave a shriek and leapt off, scurrying into the woods.

  “Snorts!” said Gibrig as he rushed to give the hog a hug.

  “Precious!” said Brannon, hurrying over as well.

  “You didn’t eat the hog?” Willow said to Tor. “What, you sick or something?”

  Sir Eldrick patted his horse’s back and nodded at the wizard. “Thank you, Kazimir.”

  “May I have a private word with you?” Brannon asked, eyeing the wizard like few ever dared.

  Kazimir grudgingly nodded, and Brannon followed him to his yurt.

  “Break down camp,” Sir Eldrick told the others as he followed the two. “We ride in ten minutes.”

  Murland and the others did as they were told, and he wondered what it was that Brannon and Sir Eldrick had to say to the wizard in private.

  ***

  Sir Eldrick followed Brannon into the yurt, and Kazimir waved a hand, casting a spell on the tented building. “That will keep out prying ears. Now speak swiftly, for I have little time for silly questions.”

  “You never said anything about our friends and family getting mixed up in this,” said Brannon, pacing the small room and biting his thumbnail. “And Zuul! The Dark Lord himself? How will you ever free them from the likes of him?”

  “Do not underestimate my power, elf,” said Kazimir.

  “If they all came after us, they must have learned of the deception somehow,” Sir Eldrick reasoned.

  “Yes, they all learned of the lie in their own way. They set out after you all to stop you from going to Bad Mountain. I intercepted them and told them to turn back, but it appears that they did not heed my warning.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Brannon insisted.

  The wizard gave him a contemptuous scowl. “I am not your errand boy! Enough of your silly questions. I have said that I will free them from Zuul, and that should be enough for you. Now go, continue west as you were, for the Wall is not far off.”

  With that he marched out of the yurt and whistled. Soon his black unicorn came dashing out of the woods. The wizard floated up and landed in the saddle and looked to the companions. “Continue on, brave champions. Do not fret about your loved ones, for Kazimir is on his way.”

  Kazimir snapped the reins, and the unicorn suddenly sprouted long black wings. It galloped toward the road and lifted off gracefully, veering north and disappearing beyond the trees.

  When the companions set out, a blanket of gray clouds swept across the sky from the south, and a light rain began to fall, lending to the miserable mood. Worry was etched across every brow save Sir Eldrick’s, who led them solemnly. His thoughts were not consumed with worry for his loved one, but rather the fact that no one had come after him at all.

  “What did you two talk to Kazimir about in private?” Murland asked, and Sir Eldrick glanced over at Brannon.

  “I…warned him that if anything happened to Valkimir, he would have my father’s wrath to deal with,” said the elf.

  “But why would they be coming after us?” Gibrig asked. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Perhaps the darklings were lying, trying to shake us up,” said Sir Eldrick.

  “I can’t believe me pap would set out to stop me,” said Gibrig. “Maybe he was just comin’ to lend a helpin’ hand. He’s always helping me with stuff, even when I don’t need it.”

  “Dingleberry is a little rascal,” said Willow with a laugh. “Probably thought she was missing out. She was pretty upset when she wasn’t allowed to come.”

  “Poor Valkimir,” said Brannon, looking wet and miserable upon his white steed. He hadn’t even bothered to comb his hair or do his makeup. “I should have known that he would come after me.”

  “I can’t believe that Princess Caressa came after me,” said Murland. “We’re friends, sure, but…well, she’s a princess. I think the darklings were lying.”

  “But why didn’t the darklings mention anyone coming for you, Sir Knight?” Gibrig asked.

  Murland looked to him with big eyes that suggested it was a bad question, and the dwarf’s mouth made a big O shape as he cringed with the realization of his tactless comment.

  Sir Eldrick glanced back at them all stoically. “We should not waste worry on it. For Kazimir is the greatest wizard in all the land. Whether these things are true or not, he will get to the bottom of it. Your friends are in good hands. Look there, do you see that dark shadow upon the horizon to the west? That is the Wide Wall, my friends. Only a few days’ march from here. You have done well.”

  The companions followed him through the drizzle and fog, feeling very much alone and quite miserable. The bleak feeling of helplessness caused by the darklings haunted them as they rode in silence, ever westward, ever westward.

  Chapter 34

  The Twisted Tower

  Kazimir flew with the unicorn upon the winds of time and space. The journey would have taken anyone else days, for the Twisted Tower lay far to the north, two hundred miles off the mainland on Dark Island. He spoke the words that would bring him back to the physical realm before he got too close, knowing full well that if Zuul had regained enough power, the Twisted Tower would be protected by wards that made such travel too close to the island impossible.

  As the streaking blur of stars gave way to a dreary sky and clouds pregnant with rain, he saw that indeed, the Twisted Tower glowed with power once mo
re. Like a unicorn horn it spiraled out from the broken earth and rose a mile into the air above Dark Island.

  He steered the unicorn down and landed on the bank before dismissing the creature and staring grimly at that hated tower. Kazimir had not known fear in a long, long time. But now, looking up at the remnant of a time of such darkness that had nearly consumed the world, he was reminded of its meaning.

  Overhead, the four darklings flew out of a swirling portal like the one he had just ventured through; Zuul was getting powerful indeed.

  Kazzzimirrr.

  The wizard jerked his head to the lone window high at the top of the Twisted Tower, frozen by the icy voice of Zuul echoing in his head.

  You owe me a sssoul!

  “Et egressus est ab animo animal foedum!” said Kazimir, releasing his power with the warding spell and slamming his staff into the stone at his feet.

  The hissing, shrieking voice screamed in his mind one last time and was gone.

  Zuul had gained in power, it was true, but so too had Kazimir. He grinned up at the window and thought he saw a dark figure standing there, staring down at him.

  ***

  Valkimir slowly opened his eyes and found himself bound in chains against a cold, jagged wall, wearing nothing but his boots. His warrior instincts took over, and rather than feel alarm, fear, and terror, his mind began to scan the round room and try to formulate a plan of escape. To his left, Caressa hung from similar chains, and to her left hung Wendel. To Valkimir’s right, he found Hagus. All of them were still out cold. Dingleberry too hung from the wall on the other side of the dwarf; it looked as though her little wings had been bound, along with her arms and legs. She had done so much thrashing that a two-inch pile of fairy dust had gathered on the floor beneath her and trailed down the jagged wall, gathering in places and sparkling faintly in the dim light.

  There was only one window in the circular chamber, but at its center was a large, humming globe covered in clouds. Valkimir looked closer and thought that he saw the outline of Fallacetine.

  “I see that you are admiring my ball,” came a deep, wet, mechanical voice.

  He looked again to the window, catching faint movement in the corner of his eye. Valkimir was surprised to see a hunchbacked and hooded figure standing in the window, looking away.

  “Zuul,” said Valkimir, refusing to be intimidated by the Dark Lord, but again not forgetting Zuul’s true power.

  The figure turned, and Valkimir saw that it was not Zuul, but a hag. She had the look of a witch, with a long hooked nose covered in warts and sagging breasts hanging over her big round belly. And on that belly, resting in the crook of her crooked, boney arms, was a baby. It was wrapped in a dark material, like bat wings, and in its mouth was a metallic breathing apparatus connected to a tube.

  Valkimir realized with sudden, sick awareness that it had been the baby, not the hag, who had spoken. For the hag stared blankly at the floor near Valkimir’s feet, while the baby, with its demonic red eyes, mischievous baby sneer, and shock of red hair, stared expectantly at Valkimir.

  “I don’t know if I want to throw you from this tower, or squeeze your little cheeks,” Valkimir told the baby.

  “I am ZUUUUL!” the baby cried in a voice both cherubic and terrifying at the same time, which was amplified by the metal mask.

  Caressa awoke with a start. She thrashed briefly against her chains, screaming, but then went limp with horror and disgust when her eyes fell upon the Dark Lord reborn. Dingleberry gave a high-pitched chittering like a squirrel, and Wendel came to, screaming like a man on fire.

  Hagus had been roused by the horrible cry as well and shook the drowsiness from his face violently. His eyes soon found Zuul’s, and he stared not in horror, but as one might a strange insect. “What in the five hells is ye supposed to be?” he asked, disgusted.

  Zuul pointed a tiny, shaking finger at them all, silencing them immediately, and took the metal breathing contraption out of his mouth. His little head darted behind a thin veil covering the hag’s weeping breast, and a suckling sound soon filled the chamber.

  “Oh, gods,” said Valkimir, having the sudden urge to brush his teeth.

  “She has a right to breastfeed in public,” said Caressa, wisely trying to get on the witch’s good side, Valkimir realized.

  “I think that milk spoiled a few decades ago, laddie,” said Hagus with a chuckle.

  “IT’S NOT FUNNY,” Zuul shot back in a voice much more baby-like without the mask. “Forward,” he told the hag, slapping her with a tiny little wand. The witch carried him closer, until he was only two feet from Valkimir. “I have not died, spent a thousand years in limbo, and clawed my way back into this world through the cobwebbed womb of a witch to be laughed at by the likes of you! Do you know who I am? I am ZUUUL! The world once trembled at the mere mention of my name, and it will once more. When the Champions of the Dragon come to rescue you, I will kill them all, and there will be no one to stop Drak’Noir from setting the world aflame. I, Zuul, will rise above those ashes and rein for eternity!”

  “You will never get away with this!” Caressa told him defiantly.

  “Yeah!” Dingleberry squeaked.

  Zuul snapped his fingers, and the witch walked him over to stand before Caressa. He looked her over with the hungry eyes of an infant and licked his thin lips. “The milk of a princess is said to be the sweetest of all,” he told her, grinning.

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, anything!” cried Wendel. “Hells, I’ll milk her for you.”

  “Leave the lass alone, ye half-pint terror,” Hagus growled.

  Zuul lashed out with his wand and spoke a spell that crackled out of the wooden tip and hit Hagus square in the chest.

  “PAIN!” Zuul screamed. “Doloribusss!”

  Hagus thrashed and jittered, grinding his jaw and growling as Zuul’s face twisted with sadistic delight.

  “Fulgur!” Zuul commanded, and snaking lightning leapt from his clawed little hand and enveloped the dwarf, whose bones glowed beneath the skin and whose beard and hair stuck straight out in all directions. By the time Zuul let up, the dwarf’s head looked like a smoldering porcupine.

  “Leave him alone!” Caressa cried, thrashing against her bonds.

  Zuul rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Princess, but you are a long way away from Magestra. So, shut up and be a good little wench, and Zuul will not bite when he nurses.”

  A sudden explosion silenced Zuul, and the door blew inward, knocking the hag against the wall and causing her to drop Zuul’s infant body. Kazimir appeared in the smoking doorway, looking cross. He followed the bundle as it rolled across the floor, watching it with an arched brow.

  Zuul suddenly leapt to his feet, wearing his black baby blanket like a robe, and shot his little wand out at Kazimir, screaming, “Temptat mortim!”

  The seasoned wizard was quick on the draw, and he released a spell of his own from a long, crooked wand and bellowed, “Revertere ad mittentis!”

  The spells collided with a bang, and Zuul’s spell shot back in his direction, forcing him to leap to the side with incredible agility.

  “Volo, et fortitudinem,” said Zuul, tapping the wand on top of his own head. He suddenly shot out of the blanket and across the room like an arrow, leaping up and landing on Kazimir’s face. He pulled the wizard’s hair and tried to stab his wand in Kazimir’s eyes. Kazimir spun in circles, cursing and trying to dislodge the tiny Dark Lord from his face.

  Finally, Kazimir got a grip on Zuul and threw him across the room. He hit the wall with a thud and dropped to the floor. Zuul blinked, looking shocked, and then his large eyes welled up with tears and he began to wail. The cry was no ordinary infant scream, but like that of a banshee, high-pitched and piercing.

  Valkimir and the others thrashed in their chains, trying desperately to cover their ears. However, Kazimir weathered the torturous sound with a small grimace.

  “Darklings!” the baby cried.

  Up through the door, fo
ur black shadows swooped and surrounded Kazimir. He turned a circle, pointing his wand dangerously at them, before pointing it at the ground and bellowing, “Vocat lux stella endlune!”

  Sudden brilliant white light erupted in the small chamber, washing over the companions like a lover’s lingering lips and filling their spirits with joy. To the darklings and Zuul, the lightshow seemed to have a much different effect, for they howled and screamed, cursed and shrieked.

  When the light subsided, the darklings were gone, and only Zuul and the dazed-looking witch remained.

  “I will peel your fetid skin from your rotting bones,” Zuul began, slowly rising to his little bare feet.

  “NO!” said Kazimir, as one might to a naughty child.

  Zuul looked as though his rosy cheeks had been slapped. “How dare you tell me n—”

  “NO!” said Kazimir, with all the authority of a king.

  “I’ll, I’ll…”

  “No, you will not. You will be good, or by the gods, I will destroy it.”

  Zuul looked confused, and perhaps a little scared. He rubbed his little hands together, glaring at Kazimir with utter malice.

  “For I know your secret, once great Zuul, pillager of souls.” He held out before him a green, glowing water pipe, rough cut and luminescent and beautiful in its sheer power.

  “Give it to me!” Zuul screamed, rushing the wizard with two clutching fists out before him.

  “Manibus!” said Kazimir, shooting out a choking hand.

  Zuul was picked up off his feet and slammed into the wall, where he cried and squirmed like a slug.

  “You will teach me how to use your former master’s pipe, or I will vanquish you to the realm of light, where you will burn, and beg, and plead, and die, forever!”

  “Never!” Zuul cried, and Kazimir choked him with the invisible hand until his face was purple.

  “Say the words, or be gone forever! Swear fealty to me!”