by Tiger Hebert
Approaching the unsuspecting man, he shifted the rod to his right hand. Raising the rod above his shoulder, Ekrin suddenly brought the head of the staff crashing down upon the oak table with a loud crack. The impact rang out through the room, mingling with the gasps of the startled soldier.
With eyes wide open, the soldier jolted awake and shouted, “What the—!” Losing his battle for balance, the man tipped in his chair and toppled to the floor with a dull thud. It sounded as if all the air was driven from his lungs. Grasping at his chest, the man wheezed as he tried to catch his breath.
Ekrin chuckled as the fool lay on the floor with his feet above his head on the upturned chair. The rare sight of a grin could be found on his face briefly. The cruel smirk faded quickly, though.
“Did I catch you at a bad time, Colonel Nevis?” asked the priest sarcastically. “I can come back another time if that’s better for you.”
“You jackass!” snapped the colonel.
“Me? A jackass?” questioned Ekrin with incredulity. “I could have slit your throat or, better yet, disemboweled you. No, I think that makes you the jackass by default, my good man,” corrected the priest.
An angry Colonel Nevis climbed to his feet. He was still breathing heavily from the shock of his fall. Fixing his chair upright just to watch it tip over, he began to mumble. He attempted to fix the leg of the chair, but it simply tipped over again as the broken leg gave out and tumbled to the floor.
“Look what you’ve done. You even broke my chair,” shouted Colonel Nevis.
“You’re lucky that’s all that I broke. Enough of this petty nonsense. I did not come here for my pleasure. We will assemble the people. You have orders to escort Jun and Somar to the altar. You have twenty minutes,” instructed the high priest.
“What is the meaning of this?” questioned the colonel.
“Escort Jun and Somar to the altar, Colonel,” reiterated Ekrin.
“Jun and Somar are two of my best men. I demand an explanation,” barked Nevis.
“And I demand obedience, Colonel!” snarled the priest. “Escort the captains,” was his final remark as he turned and walked away from the officer and back down the stairs.
“All because those filthy greenskins came into our city and threatened our people. I knew we should have destroyed them years ago, those savage beasts,” Nevis thought aloud.
The colonel was not a large man like most in the army; rather, he was small and lean. His ghostly complexion was masked only by his well-groomed beard, which attempted to hide the patches of blackened skin underneath. The light brown facial hair carried slight shades of gray. Dark eyes punctuated the military leader’s face. He was second in command among the humans of Karthusa. They all bowed down to the great dragon, but only the high priest held authority over him among his own people.
It was this very reason that he would never make the rank of general. Ekrin alone had the authority among men to hand down the commission of general, but it would never happen as long as he lived. The commission of general held too much power, something Nevis knew the high priest would never freely relinquish. It is that very reason that he had no choice but to go arrest his two favored captains.
He placed his hat down over his wavy crop of brown hair, and against his own discretion, he ventured out of the War Master Hall toward the homes of Jun and Somar. Passing through, he signaled to one of the lieutenants on duty.
“Yes, Colonel?” replied the young officer.
“Call an assembly at the Temple of the Dragon,” ordered Nevis.
“Yes, Colonel,” answered the lieutenant before he ran off toward the great temple.
Nevis headed south from the War Quarters to the section of the city where Jun and Somar lived. The narrow streets and small apartment homes marked the ninth district where they lived.
They were young and still trying to rise above their birthrights. They had bright futures in this army, but that did not matter anymore. For whatever charges, they were about to be judged and sentenced accordingly.
Nevis understood that the Zenari were a well-oiled military machine; however, failures were a sign of weakness. Those weaknesses would not be allowed to stand in the way of the destiny of this great city. They were ruled with an iron fist, and making an example for the greater good of the empire was accepted. Nevis did not agree with what was in store for the two officers, but it was not the first nor the last such display he could expect to witness.
Stopping at a faded wooden door on the main street, he began rapping his gloved fist against the swirling wood grain until the door opened before him.
“Colonel Nevis,” stammered the young man in surprise.
“Jun, I need you to come with me,” ordered Nevis.
“What’s going on, Captain?” asked Jun.
“I am not here to talk. Let’s move,” asserted the colonel as he walked away.
“Yes, sir,” replied Jun as he followed the colonel down the street.
They walked down the street one block and turned down a side street to the west before they reached a second wooden door. Pulling the leather glove down further onto his right hand, Nevis then reached out and began knocking on the door. The door only opened partially, with the face of a young woman peering from around the door.
“Can I help you?” she snapped.
“I am here for Somar,” retorted Nevis.
“It is the middle of the night! You have to be out of your mind!” barked the woman.
“Somar, report!” Nevis hollered into the house.
“Yes, sir! Coming, sir!” shouted Somar from the back of his house as he scrambled to throw on his clothes.
“Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?” the woman questioned.
“When the colonel calls, I answer,” he replied as he slipped on his boots.
Then from the center of town came a trumpeting sound. Several long blasts of the horn signaled the calling of an assembly. It echoed through the night air and over the cobblestone streets. It sent shivers down their spines, as they all realized why the colonel had come for them.
“No,” she screamed, “you can’t have him. No!”
She burst into tears as she tried to cling to her boyfriend before Nevis pulled him away. Shock and disbelief were stamped on their faces as they stared at each other in silence. Their minds were racing, trying to understand what was happening.
“But, Colonel, what is going on? What have we done?” Jun pleaded for an explanation
“We must move, men. They will be waiting for us,” replied the colonel coldly.
“Who?” they both asked in unison.
“The high priest and the great dragon,” he informed them.
Looks of terror shadowed their faces as fear and disbelief overtook them. The color faded from their young faces as they walked. The panic-stricken looks and frantic eye movements exposed their racing minds. They walked beside the colonel without restraints, as they were too stunned to react to the situation.
“We don’t even know what we did, but we are called before the high priest and Slayvin on charges?” questioned Somar.
“Your questions will be answered soon. We must get to the temple first,” responded Nevis.
The colonel walked behind the two officers as they pushed their way through the crowds of people as they approached the city center. An anxious crowd shouted and murmured as they speculated about the cause of the late-night assembly. The streets became harder to maneuver. The throng of people became more condensed as they came within view of the base of the temple. Pressing forward, the three men trudged through the onlookers.
The massive Temple of the Dragon loomed before them. From its base, they stared at the long stairs leading up the eastern face of the monument. Lined with dozens of torches, the path led straight to the top of the stone structure that towered high above the city. Fighting their way out of the crowd, they reached the steps and slowly began their ascent.
Looking up toward the altar, they saw Ekrin, t
he high priest, appear as he reached the temple summit from his rooftop entrance. The purple hues of his robes were lost in the moment, bearing only blackness. His expression was cold, focused.
Behind the priest rose two massive blackened wings, each bearing a horrible talon at its apex. Two onyx- and bone-colored horns rose into view before the mighty dragon’s face was revealed. His scales were black as coal, and his eyes and mouth burned as if they were fueled by it. Row after row of massive spines jutted down his back toward his tail. The beast’s breast heaved with deep breaths as he contained the storm inside himself. Fury and rage were personified in the form of this dragon. Slayvin unleashed a deafening roar over the assembly. Lifting his head high, he spewed fire into the black night sky. The masses shuddered with reverence at the awe-inspiring power of their master.
Despite the awesome display by Slayvin, the colonel and his two captains continued their climb up the temple stairs. Jun and Somar reached the large rooftop, followed by Nevis. Confused and scared eyes dominated their countenances.
Ekrin lifted the long blade of the ceremonial sword from the altar. The draconic inscription sprawled across the length of the blade read, “Ahn Vekthi bri Korvath ut sii,” meaning, the blood debt must be paid. The beautiful instrument of death reflected the torchlight on its mirrored surface. The priest motioned for them to stand before the altar. Taking their places, the three stood before him at the altar, with Nevis to their right side.
As Ekrin opened his mouth to speak, the great dragon cut him off. “Beloved children of Karthusa, your high priest has called this assembly tonight. The brazen orcs have grown bold, and now they come into the streets of our city and have killed our own. Our forces failed capture or kill our attackers. Their escape has left us wounded and vulnerable. The orcs will sense this weakness, and they will attack. For the safety of my children, we must make sure that this does not happen again. For this, the high priest demands the law be fulfilled. The blood debt must be paid! But take heart, my children, for I come with mercy and grace,” said Slayvin.
A look of disbelief rushed over Ekrin’s face as he listened to the dragon’s ruse. He knew he was merely a pawn in this game. Holding the sword at his side, he listened to the words of the deceiver.
“It is in my compassion and love for you that I graciously review the charges against Captains Jun and Somar. Their failure to prepare an adequate trap to snare the greenskins is unacceptable and has cost us dearly. Yet, it is within my power to pardon their failures,” continued Slayvin. “Colonel Nevis, do you command these guilty officers?”
“Yes, Master Slayvin,” replied the colonel.
“Do you agree that these two men should be pardoned?” inquired the dragon.
“They are our best officers, irreplaceable,” answered the colonel.
“That settles it. Jun, Somar, I absolve you of your crimes against your people,” uttered the dragon.
Relief fell over the young men. They stood there in shock as the assembly began to cheer with excitement. Ekrin stood there in silence, perplexed by the course of events that had just taken place.
Lowering his head down to the height of the altar, then the dragon spoke again, “However, your high priest is bound by the law, and the law demands blood for the atonement of sin. Therefore, he is bound to uphold the Law of Blood. Since Jun and Somar are our best officers, then perhaps someone else should give the law that which it demands,” suggested Slayvin.
Confusion swept over the people, with the exception of Ekrin. The weight of the beast’s treachery had fallen upon him. Understanding the law and his role as high priest, he knew what had to be done.
With a subtle grin, the dragon looked at the priest. Then he fixed his burning eyes on Nevis before he quietly whispered, “Ahn Vekthi bri Korvath ut sii.”
Silver flashed, and it was done.
Shock and terror overcame the crowd. The colonel’s face twisted in agony and disbelief as he stared at the steel in his abdomen. He cried out in pain as the high priest removed the blood-soaked blade from his body. With dark eyes haunted by the treachery, he stared at Ekrin and Slayvin as he fell to his knees. Lying in a dark pool of blood, he struggled to speak before the life left his body.
Leaning down over the dying body, Slayvin came face-to-face with Nevis and growled in a whispered voice, “Your soul belongs to me!” With that, the dragon violently sucked the soul and remaining life out of Nevis. Inhaling the yellow-and-gold mist through his wicked mouth, the dragon closed his eyes in ecstasy.
Ekrin coldly stared at the colonel’s lifeless corpse as he wiped the blood from the ceremonial long sword. Then the priest turned and addressed the crowd, “Now we will name a successor to the colonel.” Turning back to the two young officers, Ekrin asked them, “Are either of you prepared to lead the army?”
“Yes, High Priest,” they answered in succession as they carefully watched the blade in his hand.
“Excellent. Prove it,” whispered Ekrin as he pointed toward the fallen sword of the fallen commander.
The two friends shoved each other as they raced toward Nevis’s body. Crashing into Somar with his shoulder, Jun reached the body first, quickly drawing the dead commander’s sword. Regaining his balance, Somar charged toward him from behind.
With no hesitation, Jun dropped to his right knee as he spun. As he twisted, the curved blade arced around him, flaying Somar’s gut. Somar crashed to the temple ground with blood pouring out of the wide gash in his flesh.
He tried to crawl to the high priest. Reaching out, he cried, “Heal me, High Priest. Please save me!”
Ekrin looked down upon the trembling man crawling in his own blood. Fighting to reach him, Somar continued to crawl and plead for help as he grabbed the hem of the priest’s purple garments. Then his cries grew silent. His head dropped and rolled over the wet stone surface.
Another lifeless body lay on the temple as Ekrin wiped the sword clean. Jun stared at the dead bodies of his friend and commander without expression. His skin darkened as he surveyed the bodies.
“Sadly, the Law of Blood has claimed the lives of two of our children tonight, Karthusa. Pray with me as we gather another soul to paradise,” proclaimed the dragon as he lied to the spellbound crowd.
Ekrin and Colonel Jun watched the shadow drake become seemingly intoxicated as he devoured yet another soul.
“Do not despair, though, my children. From this we will grow stronger, and now we will bring war upon those that would threaten our way of life. Leading our forces, I give you your champion, commander of the armies, Colonel Jun!” proclaimed the high priest as the bewitched crowd cheered into the night.
In response, the great beast let loose a terrifying roar only before spewing a torrent of flames from his blackened maw. The warm night air swirled at the beating of his massive wings as the monstrous serpent rose high into the dark sky, where he quickly vanished into the night.
10 Here There Be Dragons!
Through the darkness of night, the terrible beast flew on wings of wickedness. Some would say the very essence of rage and hatred were kindled inside that hollowed core. Malevolence coursed through the chambers of his bubbling and boiling heart like fuel through a great furnace, and it seeped through whatever pores might have been hidden beneath his scale encased body.
Slayvin was awful and horrible but alluring, with a very forbidden and foreboding aura of power. Of course, he was all of these things. According to all that is written, Slayvin could never have been anything less than terrible and full of all the many kinds of wickedness that could betray a man. Not even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t, because quite simply put, he was a dragon, and that is just who dragons are. Much like there are no good witches, there are no good dragons. As the old adage goes, the only good dragons are dead dragons. They are not believed to be misunderstood or unfairly cast, and it is foolish to believe that a white dragon is any less devilish than one as blackened as Slayvin.
Now, m
ost of the living peoples of Aurion, particularly the younger generations and the people of Darnisi, were not accustomed to tales of dragons. So, they were not as keenly aware of the beasts as you might think. There were some fascinating stories of old about terrible beasts they knew to be dragons, but they had long been dismissed as fairy tales and such by the people of the current age. However, even the tales that did survive time were treated with quick dismissal. So, it is important to know more about the true nature of the foul creatures. To understand that nature better, one would need to explore the ancient texts, the texts of the Old Age or at least texts about such a time. The problem was that no such texts had been written in this half of Aurion, save for the work of one Jonus Quillbearer VII. Jonus himself practically lived among the tomes in the libraries of Tempour. The details of Master Quillbearer himself are not relevant at this time, but his writings provide great context and insight into the world of Aurion beyond the shores of Darnisi and, more importantly, before the present age. So, without further ado, enter the ramblings and musings of Jonus Quillbearer VII as he relays his findings and those of his predecessors in Here There Be Dragons.
Every blasted day, I labor through piles of books and scrolls only to find so little that is worthy of my time. It is hard to find many surviving texts from the bygone age, especially here in Darnisi, as you can imagine. You see, Darnisi, despite its great history, is still a relatively young place, if you catch my meaning. Not to say that the trees and rivers and mountains are young, as they have perhaps always been here, but rather that it does not have a proper history of the deeds and legacies of men and dwarves and elves as it does now. Darnisi is believed to be scarcely populated at all prior to the present age, which, by most records, dates back about seven hundred years.
So naturally we turned to trade goods for literary sources, where boatload after boatload of things were regularly shipped over the Sunburst and Black Seas from the old world to the new. As these trade ships would arrive at their various points around Darnisi, a few trusted and strategically located contacts of mine would scour the loads for any aged books or scrolls. When the articles were found, my associates would then secretly make their way to me here in the jungle city of Tempour, where they would be paid, and rather handsomely, I might add. I would scan through the findings hoping to find more of my ancestors’ writings, along with those of the other respectable historians of the previous age, hoping to preserve and chronicle the details of the history of our world in a more concisely catalogued manner.
