Elethain replied with a scowl before shaking his head. The half-orc already knew the real answer. Even if they could, the prejudiced elf would not risk even his reanimated corpses for the likes of an orc.
“What if we could extract a tooth from Aurum? Could we use it to puncture the dragon’s scales?” Aesthéa questioned.
“Ye’d probably have an easier time movin’ the stone,” the captain responded.
So, with no alternative, they all remained seated in silence, begging their gods for a miracle. None, except Elethain, were willing to part with their trapped companion yet. They still had no knowledge of whether Fangdarr was alive or dead. Nevertheless, they had to hope.
* * * * *
He was drawn to it. The marvel. The strength.
Something within him called out, demanding he touch it. Fangdarr reached out hesitantly, as if it was some sort of cursed thing, but once his hand made contact, a warm sensation surged through his body, and Fangdarr could not contain his smile.
The heart.
Even though it no longer pulsed with life, it felt alive. It made sense. A dragon’s heart must be such a wondrous thing for such a ‘small’ organ to be the driving power behind a mortal deity. Fangdarr touched it in his hands and felt the life emanating from it. The bulbous organ was nearly as large as the orc with a handful of thick arteries connecting to and from the suspended structure.
It called to him.
Immediately, Fangdarr bit into bloody heart with as much force as he could. Blood instantly filled his mouth as he sucked forcefully. Taking gulp after gulp of the purple liquid down his throat, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. It felt as if the room was getting smaller. In reality, Fangdarr was getting bigger. His already impressive stature grew as he drank, and the surge of power through his body was so addicting, he could not stop consuming. Gaining strength.
A small voice in his mind screamed for him to stop. Pleading. Begging. No more! Despite his craving demanding he continue, the orc managed to pull away with a gasp. Blood poured from his mouth. How long had it been since his last breath? His chest heaved from the lack of air. Fangdarr looked down to his body. His muscles were nearly bursting through his skin. The veins that lined his arms were pulsing with vitality. He stood once more to his full height. However, now he could not extend fully. Fangdarr had grown nearly a quarter of his previous stature in both size and girth.
The orc clenched his fists, feeling the new life within them. He felt limitless, as if his body was hardly able to contain the amount of strength he now possessed. Fangdarr looked to the heart. It had shriveled to nearly half its size, now a decrepit thing. He could hardly fathom that his mouth had done such a thing. Still, the chieftain could not deny the gift he had been granted. Driktarr in hand, Fangdarr cut through the opposing side of the chamber. It was time to leave.
CHAPTER FIFTY
HORDE
Elethain groaned, clearly frustrated and bored. Bitrayuul sighed and finally removed the elf’s gag.
“Finally! You stupid half—” the irritated necromancer began, until his captor started moving the gag back toward his mouth, “Wait, wait!” Bitrayuul paused, torn cloth at the ready. After steadying himself, the elf began again with caution, though with a distasteful glare. “Thank you. We have been sitting here for too long. How long must we push our luck?”
“What do ye mean, elf?” Cormac chimed in.
Elethain rolled his eyes with exaggeration. “Crepusculus claimed to have armies. Look around,” his head motioned to the large cavern they sat in. “Where do you think we are?”
Cormac looked to Bitrayuul in concern. “Elf’s got a point. It be odd that we ain’t been swarmed yet.”
“Odd, yes. But I will take the blessings the gods have granted us for now.” Bitrayuul exhaled slowly. “Alright, let’s consider our course of action. Say what you would like to do, each of you.” He turned to Aesthéa first.
“I will not leave until I know of Fangdarr’s state.”
The half-orc nodded in appreciation. How incredible, he thought, that his kin had ensnared the love of such an unusual companion. Bitrayuul next motioned to Elethain—though he already knew the response.
Remaining calm as he spoke, Elethain offered his suggestion. “I wish to enslave the dragon, so that it may be used as a tool later, as I see fit. Then I suggest we leave immediately, with or without the orc.”
Bitrayuul nodded again in appreciation for the necromancer’s honesty. At least there seemed to be no malice in his voice this time. That was an improvement. The half-orc turned to Cormac.
“I’m not one for a horde of trolls, don’t ye doubt,” the captain started, bringing a smile to Elethain’s face, “but I can’t leave him.” The elf’s expression quickly shifted to a disappointing scowl, just as a smile came over Aesthéa’s face. Cormac looked to each of them and shrugged in half-apology.
“Right, I agree that our stay here being uninterrupted is a blessing that may be short-lived. However, I do not wish to leave my brother. Yet, Fangdarr knew the risks and took it upon himself to eliminate the threat. I believe he would not wish that we sacrifi—” the half-orc was interrupted by a dull thud behind him.
The party looked to each other in suspicion, wondering if they were the only one who heard it. Puzzled expressions confirmed that the sound was real.
Thud.
There it was again! Immediately, they were all up in arms, save for the bound necromancer who struggled and complained to be released.
Thud.
Bitrayuul cut Elethain free. “Prepare yourself, elf.”
Immediately, the warlock began chanting. The half-orc watched as the air around the dragon began to vibrate slightly. He was trying to enslave the dragon! “Elethain!” Bitrayuul shouted.
The elf smiled as if no other response were needed before being tackled to the ground once more by Cormac.
“Damned elf! Can ye not just wait a few moments?”
Thud.
“No! There is no time, I must complete the ritual,” Elethain said with strain as the dwarf pushed his face into the cold stone.
Thud. Thud.
“Whatever it is, its progressing,” Aesthéa stated. She took a few steps forward, allowing her keen senses to lead her. Within a moment, the druid had shifted into her bestial form and was sniffing the air with ears perked. Another few steps forward. Her ears continued to shift in each direction, waiting for the sound.
Thud!
The bear’s head instantly shot up. She knew where the sound was coming from.
With a final booming sound, one of Crepusculus’ dulled scales broke free of its body and fell to the ground. The companions all stared up at the place the scale had been just as an extremely gory orc slid out and fell to the ground with a crash. Almost immediately, Fangdarr was met by Aesthéa’s embrace, already back in her true form.
“I thought I lost you . . .” the elf said softly in his ear.
Fangdarr, still covered in blood and shredded bits of dragon flesh, returned the embrace. He had to be careful not to squeeze the life out of her, though, as his new stature was much more capable.
As if on cue, she retracted in awe. “Fangdarr, what happened to you? You’ve grown somehow.”
He smiled in response as Bitrayuul and Cormac walked over with glee spread across their faces. “I am much stronger now. Dragon blood.”
The dwarf gave the orc’s bicep a squeeze. “Bothain’s beard, lad. Yer a damned ogre now! Bahaha!” he laughed as his short arms could not even begin to wrap around his lost friend’s waist. Cormac backed away as Bitrayuul made eye contact with his kin.
“Bit, you okay?” Fangdarr asked with concern.
“Am I okay?” he laughed at such a ridiculous question. “Well, I have to say, it’s been a bit uncomfortable sitting in this cave. I wish I had a dragon to relax in!” he said with a laugh.
The orc smiled at his brother as they clasped forearms. Fangdarr’s smile quickly vanished, however, as his mem
ory recalled the sight he witnessed in the pit of the demon’s stomach. “Bit. Sorry for Malice.”
Bitrayuul’s smile faded. All he could offer was a simple nod of appreciation for the sentiment. In truth, the half-orc had tried to keep that painful memory at bay. Now, it completely enveloped him with fresh thoughts of guilt and remorse. With renewed mourning, he watched as Fangdarr returned happily to his reunion with Aesthéa and Cormac.
While the dwarf and druid launched a thousand questions at the fate of the orc, the dragon’s hulking corpse began twisting and turning. All watched as the lifeless form began caving in on itself over and over until finally becoming the size of a gold coin. It floated effortlessly to Elethain’s waiting hand where a new glass-like orb had been conjured out of black magic to capture the miniature beast. Once inside the orb, the minor version of Crepusculus came to life and immediately began spewing purple flames against the barrier. Luckily, it was contained completely. Even as the drake bashed its small head into the magical walls, only a small tink-ing sound could be heard.
“Just like that?” Bitrayuul asked.
“Just like that,” the necromancer replied, securing the orb to a finely-crafted twine around his neck.
It all seemed so unreal. They had traversed the long journey to get here, lost friends and family along the way, in order to eliminate a dragon, only to see it brought back to life in miniature by an elf. Fangdarr could hardly believe all he had witnessed and experienced over the last moon cycle. He had slain a dragon! Never again would his power be questioned. His legacy would live on for all time amongst the people of his clan. With that in mind, he turned to his friends. “Let’s go home.”
After a long trek up the winding ramp along the cavern walls, with the required assistance of the necromancer’s magic to create a path over the broken sections, the group finally made it outside. By now, the sun had fallen below the horizon. They were all exhausted and required a rest. Figuring the entrance to the dragon’s cave was as good a place as any, they made a small encampment. Elethain’s ghouls took watch as they slept. None had the strength remaining to stay awake for long. Even the necromancer ignored the sight of Aesthéa cuddled beneath the thick arm of the orc, as she slept against his chest.
Morning came quickly, or so it felt to the weary band. They still pondered their great string of luck at not being encountered by trolls this far into the mountains. Nevertheless, they were in no mood to linger, so they continued along the mountain passage, grateful for every step they took without conflict. After half a day of walking, they could finally see north through the tall stone around them.
“Come quick!” Cormac yelled, his gaze riveted north toward the Lithe Forest.
The elves and orcs stepped over, curious as to what had the dwarf in such a fuss. Their mouths all fell slack in shock at the sight. Though they could see little through the small gap between the mountains, enough could be determined. An army of nearly unlimited magnitude was blazing through the woods, leaving a razed and gouged land in its wake. Fire and pillars of smoke were everywhere. Though they could not see more than a short width, it seemed evident that the horde of enemies must have numbered near a million. A dark, foreboding wave was sweeping through Crein, killing everything in its path.
This was Crepusculus’ goal, they knew. Despite killing the dragon, the preparations had already been made long before they entered the cavern. The deity had organized the single greatest army that ever walked the land, and now it was destroying everything. It all made sense now. Crepusculus wished to upset the balance—to turn the tables—to help the lesser, monstrous races take over and send the goodly races to the depths.
Fangdarr watched in horror. All they had done seemed for naught. They had culled the ringleader of the threat, yet its machinations had already come to pass. They were too late. A voice screeched in his head, a mix between a whisper and scream. Now, do you see what you could have been a part of? This would have been your legacy, Fangdarr Blood-drinker.
Orcblood Legacy - Honor Page 36
