The Legend of Drak'Noir

by Ploof, Michael James

  Sir Eldrick did not see the king again until they were brought backstage at the arena where Kazimir had given his decree. King Henry stood with his wife, but Elzabethalynn’s eyes remained fixed on the curtains ahead. Henry offered Eldrick a nod, which was returned in kind.

  “May I present to you,” came a voice on stage, “King Henry and Queen Elzabethalynn Winterthorn!”

  The curtains parted, and the couple strode forth with practiced grace. Akitla poked Sir Eldrick in the side. “Breathe,” she reminded him again.

  He blew out his pent-up breath. “Thanks.”

  “My good people of Vhalovia, and travelers from afar, I stood upon this very podium not a season ago, to tell you that the dreaded Drak’Noir had returned to Bad Mountain. Kazimir, in his eternal wisdom, chose a champion. The man he chose is known to you all, for he is a legend among the knights of Vhalovia, and one of my dearest friends.”

  A slow smile spread across Sir Eldrick’s face, and Akitla squeezed his hand.

  “Not only has this man returned, but he has returned with news that Drak’Noir has not just been defeated, but she has been killed as well. Her head severed by his own blade!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers, and the chant for Sir Eldrick rose to thunderous proportions. Sir Eldrick could just imagine the king quieting them with raised hands, and the cheers died down to a whisper.

  “It is my pleasure to present to you, the Dragon Champion, the Son of Vhalovia, the Slayer of Drak’Noir, Sir Eldrick van Albright!”

  Akitla kissed Sir Eldrick on the cheek, saying, “I’m proud of you, Father.” He strode forth with a smile into the roar of the crowd.

  Chapter 47

  The Return of the Champion of Magestra

  Murland flew high above the clouds, and as the sun rose in the east, he caught his first glimpse of Kingstead. Castle Roddington shone white in the sunlight, it’s cylindrical main tower shooting higher than all others. Abra Tower was visible as well, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow like it did when the sun first hit the wards surrounding it. Murland thought of Headmaster Zorromon, the man who had believed in him enough to give to him the greatest wizardly treasures in the world, and he thought how Abra Tower would never be the same without him.

  What had Zorromon seen? Why had he chosen Murland after all? Murland hadn’t had much time to wonder until recently, and he still was at a loss. Perhaps the old wizard had looked into the future. He was, after all, rumored to be a powerful seer, although he always denied it.

  Murland watched from on high as Caressa, Benjamin, and Wendel made their way toward Magestra. Wendel was dressed in long, draping robes, with a large hood pulled low to conceal his skeletal grin. Caressa had figured that the people would make a big enough fuss over their return, and there was no point in throwing a fowl-mouthed skeleton into the mix. A horn blared when Murland got closer to the city. He must have been spotted, he realized, and he decided to have a little fun. He knew that word of their victory had reached the city by now, and when people saw a wizard with a winged backpack, they would know it was him.

  He swooped down and glided over the battlements. The soldiers pointed and shouted his name, and soon the call was repeated by people on the streets. He flew through alleys, over rooftops, under bridges, and down the main street. Children clapped joyfully and pointed, looks of amazement and wonder on their pink faces. He turned left down Sin Street, meaning to gain some altitude and circle back toward the gate. Before he could, however, he noticed a group of streetwalkers who, upon seeing him, lifted their dresses and shook their wares at him. His own face got a little pinker then.

  He landed at the gate a few minutes later as Caressa and Benjamin were approaching, and a guard came rushing to his side.

  “Murland Kadabra?” he said with amazement and shook Murland’s hand.

  “That’s my name,” said Murland. “Don’t wear it out.”

  “What? Ah, a joke. Well done, sir. And who is this that travels with…Princess?”

  “The one and only,” she said as she rode up to them.

  “The Princess has returned!” the guard yelled over his shoulder. “Summon the royal guard!”

  “That will not be necessary,” said Caressa. “But please do travel ahead to the castle and inform my father of my return.”

  “Yes, me lady!”

  A crowd had begun to grow on the other side of the gate, and the guards were rushing to keep them from smothering the princess. Caressa frowned at the sound of the chaos and looked to Murland. “How about we fly to the castle instead?”

  “Sounds a hell of a lot faster,” said Murland. “Come on,” he said to Benjamin and Wendel. “If Packy can carry me and Willow, he can handle the four of us.”

  He strapped Caressa into her harness, attached it to his own, and instructed Benjamin and Wendel to grab his legs once he was in the air. After a dodgy start in which Wendel fell twice, they finally got into the air and flew over the gate.

  They landed on the steps of the castle as the king was rushing out, looking to be all in a huff. “Caressa, my darling!” he cried when he saw her.

  “Hello Father,” she said, accepting a big bear hug that left her with no wind.

  “You have returned,” said King Nimrod. “The gods have answered my prayers.”

  “Father, I would like you to meet Benjamin,” said Caressa. “He helped me out when I was a prisoner on Bad Mountain.”

  “Prisoner?” said the king, looking to Caressa with deepening concern.

  “Hello, sir, Sire, er King,” said Benjamin, offering his hand.

  Caressa coughed, and the king looked to the offered hand.

  “Oh!” said Nimrod. “Yes, nice to meet you, Benjamin.” He seemed to notice Murland then for the first time and shook his hand with vigor. “Ah, and Murland Kadabra, Champion of the Dragon. I hear that congratulations are in order.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I knew that you could do it all along,” said the king, smiling stupidly.

  “Sire, sorry, but I know that you made a deal with Kazimir. I know, that you knew, that you were sending me to my death. But it’s alright. It wasn’t up to you.”

  “I…” said the king, but then he let out a great sigh. “I am sorry, I really am. But I am so glad that it turned out this way instead. I have to hear it from you…is she really dead?”

  Murland took the bundle from Wendel and handed it to the king.

  “What’s this?” said Nimrod, and he began to unfold it.

  “That is proof that she is really dead,” said Murland.

  Nimrod threw back the cloth to reveal the shiny black four-foot-long dragon tooth, and all color left his face. “By the gods,” he muttered.

  “It was quite the battle,” said Caressa. “One that I cannot wait to tell you about. But first there are some things that we must discuss.”

  “Like what, my dear?”

  “Well, I have knighted Benjamin here.”

  “Yes, very well,” said the king, still ogling the dragon tooth and no doubt imagining displaying it above his fireplace.

  “Also, we need to talk about Wendel.”

  “Who, darling?”

  “Me, motherfucker!” said Wendel, throwing back his hood.

  “Ack!” cried the king, and he fell back on the steps as the many guards behind him unsheathed their swords.

  “He is my guest!” said Caressa. “Put away your arms.”

  “Boo!” said Wendel, cackling.

  The guards complied slowly, and the king shuffled back. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

  “As I said, we have much to discuss,” said Caressa before turning around and kissing Murland full on the mouth.

  Nimrod regarded them like a curious dog.

  “Go and see your friends at Abra Tower. But please do come for dinner,” said Caressa.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Murland. He offered the king a small bow before leaping into the air and turning for A
bra Tower.

  ***

  Murland circled Abra Tower and was not surprised to see all the apprentices and high wizards outside and in formation. It appeared that they were about to march into town to see what all the hubbub was about. His good friend Gram was the first to spot him, calling out his name and waving jubilantly.

  The other wizards looked up and began to cheer when they saw that indeed, it was Murland. He landed before them as Gram came rushing toward him.

  “Holy witch tits, Murland. You did it!”

  “Hey, Gram,” he said, accepting a brotherly hug.

  “Apprentice Kadabra!” came the voice of High Wizard Bumblemoore, who was the new headmaster. “What a joy it is to see that you have returned.”

  “Three cheers for Murland!” said Gram, grabbing Murland’s hand and thrusting it into the air.

  The apprentices cheered, all but Lance Lancer and his two cronies. Lance took five swaggering strides toward Murland and stopped before him, looking him up and down. “When I heard that you defeated Drak’Noir, I almost shit myself,” he said with a look of disdain. “How’d you manage that without any magic? Everyone knows that you can’t even light a fart. I heard that you were running around with a broken wand the whole time.”

  “This wand?” said Murland, pulling out Kazam’s relic. Everyone’s eyes widened, for they had studied the wand in their history books, but never had any of them seen it in person. “I managed to fix it. And it works like a charm now.” He pointed it into the air and cast the spell that he had been practicing since King’s Crossing. A swirling beam of multicolored light shot out of the wand and flew two hundred feet into the sky in a heartbeat. It exploded with an earth-shattering boom, expanding like an umbrella overhead and raining down with a thousand strands of shimmering light.

  Lance stood before Murland, scowling, but the crowd of enthusiastic young apprentices soon pushed him aside as they tried to get a better look at the wand.

  “Now, now,” said Bumblemoore. “Murland will tell his story in his own time. Let the man breathe, for magic’s sake!”

  “Come, let us feast!” said Murland. “And I will tell my tale of adventure from start to finish. But I must be brief in my telling, for Princess Caressa awaits me for dinner!”

  “You sly dog!” said Gram and slapped him on the back.

  The others cheered and hurried into the tower.

  Murland let them go ahead and stood with Gram on the steps to Abra Tower, looking west. He thought about how far he had come in such a short while, and yet, how far he still had to go. Zuul was out there somewhere, Murland knew, and he would have to be dealt with sooner or later.

  “Earth to Murland,” said Gram, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

  “What? Oh, sorry. What did you say?”

  Gram laughed and shook his head. “I said that with the most famous hero in all the land as my best bud, I might just get laid after all.”

  Murland laughed at his animated friend. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go drink a few and I’ll tell you all about everything that happened. But I gotta warn you, you’re not going to believe it.”

  Letter to the Reader

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for following the story of the Champions of the Dragon this far, I hope that you enjoyed it. I would be honored if you would leave a review on Amazon. I read every single one (it is usually part of my morning coffee routine), so good or bad, I would love to hear what you thought of the story.

  I am already hard at work on the fourth book, which will continue the adventures of our favorite fools as they prepare to go on Lyricon’s tour. So far, book 4 is coming along great, and I expect it to be ready by the fall. I hope that you continue the adventure with me. I promise that it will be just as ridiculously fun as the first three!

  Yours in Magic,

  Michael James Ploof

  P.S. Here is an exclusive sneak peek at the cover.