by Eden Redd
The Dragon’s Oath
A Dark Fantasy Adventure
Eden Redd
The Dragon’s Oath © copyright 2018 Eden Redd
All Rights Reserved
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“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.” – Ned Stark, Game of Thrones
The Dragon’s Oath takes place in the fantasy world of Navarr. Below are the books in that world and in the order to be read in.
A Lover’s Rite: Shadow Elves Book 1
A Lover’s Tide: Shadow Elves Book 2
A Lover’s War: Shadow Elves Book 3
A Lover’s Trilogy (All three books)
Knight of Desire
One
The pool rippled with glowing radiance as a serpentine body lazily swam along. Wet scales glistened in the dim light and arms swayed one at a time while a thick tail writhed back and forth, propelling the creature along the calm waters. Light glimmered against cavern walls and cool night air drifted in from the mouth of the cave. Scaled eyes remained closed as a snout huffed with deep serenity.
Nypha let out a small hum as her body drifted along the immense lake. Waters glowed with ethereal light as she opened her maw and let out a relaxed sigh. Not far from the waters, gold coins and gems lay scattered across the cavern floor. A metal door stood against a rocky wall, one of the double doors ajar and firelight spilling out.
The dragon turned onto her stomach, head resting on the water’s surface and neck half submerged. The nightly swim cooled her nerves and she let out another relaxed sigh. Thoughts floated on, contemplating if she should go hunting for a cow or a pig tonight. They were both delicious but cow seemed much more tempting. Nypha’s tongue slid out and she licked the edge of her snout. One cow was enough but she could eat two or three pigs in one sitting. Thoughts of tirelessly chasing three pigs changed her mind with another huff. A cow would be much easier and afterwards, she could read the night away.
Nypha’s tail swayed as she moved to the water’s edge. Scaled hands and feet touched the bottom and she walked on all fours out of the warm waters. Yawning, the dragon’s twelve foot long body dripped as she walked out onto the cavern floor. Green and black scales glistened in the glowing lake light with two strips of silver scales running along her long neck.
Nypha looked to the mouth of the cavern and could see the twinkle of star light. Yawning again, her body began to shift and change. Patches of scales melted into skin as she continued walking on all fours. The dragon’s tail vibrated as her body shifted to smoother skin. Standing up, legs shifted to a humanoid appearance but scales still covered her shins and the outer sections of her thighs. Arms grew smoother except for scales on the forearms, hands and clawed finger tips. Green hair sprouted as horns shifted and curved forward. Her dark green leathery wings moved up a number of inches on her back. Facial scales pulled back as her snout melted into her face. Green eyes shined and she stepped forward, maintaining a twelve foot stature in her humanoid form.
Nypha stepped out of the giant cave opening and walked to the edge of a stone outcropping. Sitting down, legs dangled over the edge as the night air flowed over her skin. Nypha found it much easier to dry off in this form then her true dragon. It always took longer to dry with the water under her scales.
The dragon kicked out her legs as she looked down at the City of Uboria, one of several kingdoms along the Tower’s Edge. Nypha gazed down the mountain taking in the kingdom and country side. The main kingdom city was walled and spread out with high towers looking in all directions. Behind the prosperous city were farms, lakes and forests as far as the eye could see. Glancing to both her right and left were the Shadow Tip mountain ranges, the only natural barrier separating the northern tip of Navarr from the rest of the continent. Further north was the Burning Lands, a massive swatch of land with volcanoes dotting along the top part of the crescent shaped continent.
Nypha drank it in as her gaze fell to the land between Uboria and her home. Her mountain sat across from another mountain, north of the city. A dark forest lay in between the two mountains like a hairy valley between two orc thighs. The dragon giggled to herself, as she never tired of making that joke and knowing she lived on the eastern top of the thigh mountain. The people below officially called it the Demon’s Pass but Nypha giggled again knowing they secretly called it the Devil’s Cunt.
Mind drifting to the people, the dragon opened her senses to the sounds of the city. Voices rose up, touching Nypha’s delicate senses and she basked in the moans of love making, casual conversation and laughter filling her ears. Controlling her senses, she listened at the main keep. Guards talked and servants moved about. Several people were engaged in fornication and one let out a really loud gasp. Nypha listened and let the sounds paint images in her mind. She enjoyed the flashes and insight into their little lives. To say it was entertaining was a massive understatement. The dragon sometimes chronicled down juicy tidbits of human drama and stored it away in her library. Detailed descriptions left the wyrm feeling like she was a scribe keeping a history of the human kingdom. When she re-read them, it sometimes was a jumble, fitting it all together like a puzzle only she could truly understand.
Thoughts flowing to the royal family, the dragon’s lips curved into a gentle smile. Lord Lockwood was a good leader and even better Game of Tower’s chess player. Fond thoughts rolled through the dragon as she remembered how the lord climbed the mountain to speak with her regarding missing livestock. Normally, Nypha would have roared to scare him to death but his kind smile stayed her usual habits. She remembered hearing the people of the land complain about her stealing their livestock. She laughed it off. If they didn’t want her to eat them then they should lock up their food. Not that it would have stopped her. The dragon often snuck around in her humanoid form, slipping into barns to steal a few pigs or a cow. The sneaking wasn’t because she was afraid, but of not wanting an army of town folk coming up the mountain. She liked her home and wanted to stay there a long time. If they proved too much of a nuisance, she would have to burn them all to ash, and then she wouldn’t enjoy hearing their stories any longer.
The dragon shook her head as memories floated back into her mind. Lord Lockwood came up with a sword in sheath and a case in his hands. Nypha was more than intrigued as the human lord began setting up the human tower game at the mouth of the cave. She remembered stalking out and gazing down on the human lord in light armor. He set up the game and asked her to play. Nypha had heard the people playing the game in their inns, sometimes killing each other if someone cheated. The dragon pondered whether the lord would try the same with her if she won a game.
The first game lasted for hours. Lockwood was an expert player and taught the dragon how to play. Nypha learned the concept quickly. It was a game of skill, with each tower moving across a checkered board differently. It required immense strategy and kept the green dragon’s attention. She couldn’t look away from the board. Mind working, she was confident she would beat the human at his own game, but as the game wore on, the lord talked and asked questions. Nypha enjoyed the casual conversation until he knocked over her lord tower, beating her at the game.
Nypha remembered how green fire glowed at the back of her throat, ready to roast the lord where he stood. Lord Lockwood bowed his head pulling a gem from the side pouch around his waist. He held up a large emerald and Nypha eyed him with curiosity, and a touch of greed. The lord handed her the emeral
d and asked her to visit him from time to time to play the Tower game. He also asked her not to take so much livestock from the farmers. He even said he would speak to the farmers to ask them to have one of their livestock left out from time to time so Nypha could eat in peace.
The dragon looked to the human with subdued surprise. He seemed to have an idea how dragon society worked and she could not stop herself from developing a little respect for his foolish bravery. Accepting the gem, she agreed to visit once in a while. She knew he was simply trying to be diplomatic but it was enough to keep her amused. That was ten years ago and the green dragon bathed in the pleasant memories.
The twelve foot humanoid dragon continued to kick her legs in the night air. The sound of a low “Moooo” touched her sensitive ears. One of the farmers didn’t bring all of his cows in or left it out as a gift. Dinner was literally calling out to the dragon and she licked her lips.
“Time to bring home some supper,” Nypha whispered to herself.
The dragon woman stood up and flexed her wings, ready to change back to her true form when her ears twitched. Hesitating, she turned her attention to the main keep of Uboria, eyes narrowing. The normal sounds were all there; talking, moaning and snoring, but there was one other sound.
Nypha kept her stance rigid as she focused her senses to Lockwood’s keep. The sound drifted up of a last gasp of life, followed by another. A small shout and then the gurgling sound of blood filling a mouth. Nypha’s eyes narrowed as bodies moved under the keep, invading onwards and slicing at exposed throats.
The dragon flexed wings and bent her knees. With a gentle push, Nypha was airborne and gliding down the mountain. Silently she soared, hearing the sound of blades being drawn and shoved into bodies. Heart beats stopped for some as figures moved through the bottom levels, the sound of blood pooling on stone floors.
***
Dorian walked along, arms dangling at his sides like dead weights. The prince moved to a door and took hold of the handle. With a pained expression, he pulled the door open, stepped inside and let the door close behind him. Eyes glanced to the roaring fire first before shifting to his father and General Strum sitting at an oak carved table with maps, scrolls and books open across the hard surface.
Lord Lockwood looked up from the scrolls and books, and smiled as his son slowly stepped in. General Strum eyed the youth, smiled and bowed his head. Dorian returned the smile as he slid his feet across the floor, shoulders slouched downward. The prince stepped closer and General Strum began closing some of the scrolls and books.
Lord Lockwood eyed his son as he remained seated in his robe. Dorian stepped closer and stood before his father. General Strum scooped up two books and a scroll, tucking them under his arm.
Standing up, the General bowed to his lord, “I’ll come by early tomorrow so we may continue our discussion.”
Lord Lockwood nodded before turning his attention back to his son, “I would say you had a productive first day.”
Dorian nodded as his smile faded and muscles cried out in pain. The soreness ran thick through his body and everything burned. The prince wanted nothing more than to fall to the floor and lay there till morning but he knew his father would have none of it. Trying to keep his composure, weakness stabbed at his resolve. As soon as General Strum left the room and closed the door behind him, Dorian fell to his knees with a whimper.
Lord Lockwood kept his gaze steady as Dorian stayed on his knees, defeated. The prince knew his father was judging him but couldn’t stand of his own power any longer. The pain and torment of the day had proven too much and now he was here, kneeling like some peasant to his lord and father.
Lord Lockwood let the silence fill the room before his lips parted, “You will become stronger.”
“I don’t understand why I must do this,” Dorian hissed.
“Its tradition and it will only aid you when you become lord of these lands,” Lockwood said with an understanding tone.
“You worked for the blacksmith when you were thirteen?” Dorian managed to ask through the soreness.
Lord Lockwood chuckled briefly, “No, I was twelve.”
Dorian’s brow wrinkled.
Lord Lockwood continued, “You have had it too easy for too long. I blame myself for attending to affairs of the lands and not enough on your training and education. I promise to be attentive to your growth. No son of mine will live like those weak lords and ladies born into royalty, never working a day in their lives.”
“The same ones who talk ill of you,” Dorian said with a sharp tone.
Lockwood gazed down at his son, “Stand up.”
Dorian stayed where he was.
“Stand up. I will not ask again,” Lockwood growled.
Dorian huffed as he brought up one leg and placed his foot on the floor. With one painful move, the prince stood up on both feet, muscles burning with acid fire. The prince wanted nothing more than to speak of the horrid conditions of fire, metal and smoke he had to endure. Arms shook as he remembered bringing the hammer down again and again on a piece of metal for practice. At first it was fun but soon lost its appeal when muscles strained to lift the heavy hammer. The day wore on and metal rang out. A ringing filled his ears and hands were covered in blisters from the day’s work. The prince had no intention of doing that again and he searched for the words to tell his father.
Lord Lockwood’s face was a blank mask as he spoke, “I know what you’re thinking. You wish me to end this so you can go back to your books. I can tell you that will not happen.”
“Da!” Dorian whined.
“The answer is no. I will not have you relying on others to rule. You will visit the blacksmith every day after your morning studies until further notice.”
“This is pointless,” Dorian muttered.
Lord Lockwood stood up and eyed his son. The lord turned and stepped to the side of his large bed. A hand reached for a sword in its sheath. Picking it up, he turned and walked back to his swaying son, drawing the sword.
Dorian’s eyes widened as his father stepped toward him, naked sword at his side. Lockwood walked to his son, a grim shadow over his face and pointed brow. The lord took the thick sword, turned it in his hand and pressed the pommel to the weakened prince.
The prince looked down as the blade handle was shoved into his hand. Dorian barely held onto it when his father let go and stepped back. The prince tried to lift the blade but his arms trembled. Gritting his teeth, he tried to lift it up but the point touched the floor. Growling, the prince tried a third time, lifting it up and holding it for a few moments before weakness bled into his arms. The sword point came down and rested on the floor.
Lord Lockwood stared at his son, anger filling his brow, “If an enemy came through that door, I know I could not depend on my son to protect me….or protect anyone else for that matter.”
“This is not fair!” Dorian hissed. “If I was rested, I could wield Splitter.”
Lord Lockwood reached out and snatched the heavy sword from the prince, “I think not. Your sword play needs work. You’re clumsy as a mule and half as graceful.”
Dorian tried to keep his composure but the pain and weakness crawled along his defeated senses. The urge to fight was there but his spirit had burned low like coals in a dying fire. The words his father spoke were the truth and the prince growled his contempt.
Swallowing his pride, he lifted his eyes to his father’s stern gaze, “I will do better. I promise.”
Lord Lockwood eyed his son and gave an approving nod. The stern gaze melted and a fatherly smirk filled his cheek. The lord moved to his son’s side and wrapped his big arm around him. Silently, the two shuffled to the bed chamber doors and the lord opened one of them.
Father and son stepped out into the main corridor. Torches lined the walls, their light flickering to the draft. Stepping to the middle of the corridor, Dorian turned to his right to see the doors to the private library open. Inside were bookshelves filled with ancient tomes, a large
table and a tower game set up on it, the pieces shining in the torchlight.
Lord Lockwood turned to his son and put his hands on the prince’s shoulders, “I know the day was hard. Go to the library and wait for me. I will have the servants bring up some mead to ease your pain. I would like very much to know the details of your day.”
Dorian’s eyes could barely contain his surprise, “You never let me drink mead before.”
Lord Lockwood grinned, “Its tradition. I drank my first cup when I was twelve after my first day at the forge. It’s only right we continue to honor it.”
The weight in Dorian’s heart lessened and his spirit rose. Lord Lockwood was adamant about not drinking before the right age. He would often humor the General, saying that the prince could not touch mead or wine until he was thirty. The prince knew now that it was simply a ruse and his stern but fair father had every intention of sharing a drink when he completed his first day at the forge.
Lord Lockwood pulled away his hands.
Dorian looked to the open library doors, a memory rising up, “When will Nypha visit us again? It has been months since your last game.”
Lord Lockwood smiled, “You miss her?”
The prince’s eyes lowered but only for a moment, “She is interesting, for a dragon.”
The lord nodded, “I don’t know. Perhaps you should climb the mountain and pay her a visit?”
The prince smiled, “She might eat me.”
“Only if she’s hungry; bring a cow as tribute and she may leave your scrawny self alone.”
Dorian looked to his father, “I can’t bring a cow up the mountain.”
Lord Lockwood gave a gruff chuckle, “Giving up before you even try? Dorian, one way or another, you will learn that you can do anything if you are properly motivated. Now, go to the library and I will have some mead brought to us.”
“Yes Da,” Dorian sighed as he turned and began walking to the library.
