The Dragon's Oath: A Dark Fantasy Romance Adventure

by Eden Redd

  The lord closed the book and slipped it into the side satchel. Glancing back, he saw Nypha looking out to the forest with almond shaped eyes. Making a clicking noise against his teeth, his horse slowed until the lord and dragon were riding side by side.

  “She seems pretty calm,” Dorian pointed his chin to Nypha’s horse.

  The half dragon nodded, “I told her I would not eat her. She seemed to understand.”

  “I have never seen you eat in your true form,” Dorian said playfully.

  Nypha smiled, “It’s not pretty.”

  A comforting silence filled the space between them as they slowly trotted through the forest path.

  Dorian tried to focus on the task at hand but his mind wandered as did his eyes. Nypha’s bare thigh was not covered by the robe as she sat in the saddle. The creamy thigh spoke of sensual strength and the lord tried to look forward. Temptation tickled his mind and soon he glanced again. Nypha caught sight of the lord but said nothing. She liked how he tried to play it off and held her head high, letting him enjoy the visual taste.

  Lord Lockwood shook his head slightly as he tried refocusing, “The ruins contain a riddle that I have to solve. My father was explicit with my need to do this alone. He wrote it down several times.”

  Nypha looked to Dorian, “I cannot aid you?”

  “Knowing my father, no, he would not appreciate it. I’m happy you’re taking this small journey with me but once we are there, I must solve his puzzle.”

  “What if it’s too dangerous? I was sworn to protect you.”

  Dorian’s eyes took on a dark edge, “You were free of your oath as of last night. I’m glad you are here but afterwards, I know not what you will do next.”

  Nypha’s heart twisted in her chest but she didn’t let it show, “New oaths can be made, if the need arises.”

  Dorian raised an eyebrow, “New oaths?”

  Heat touched Nypha’s pale cheeks, “I mean, the kingdom will always be in danger from some new menace. I have also grown fond of our evenings. Much like your father, there is nothing stopping me from visiting.”

  Lord Lockwood looked on. “From time to time, I assume. I can remember months passing before you would visit. I….”Dorian trailed off.

  Nypha eyed him, “Speak your mind.”

  Dorian felt like a small child again in the presence of a powerful dragon. How her power and beauty awed him from their first meeting. The lord had his pick of many beautiful women from all over Navarr but his heart always beat for the beautiful dragon riding at his side. She was not held to the laws of man. Despite being an honorable and proud race, her kind can grow fickle from what the myths and legends spoke of. The lord pondered as they rode along, his eyes drifting to the satchel which contained his father’s journal and another item hidden at the bottom.

  “Nypha, a….friend spoke with me. She said I should speak what my heart desires.”

  Nypha’s heart leapt in her chest as she turned her full attention to him.

  Dorian continued to look forward as he spoke, “I have treasured our time together. I only ask….you visit more often. I respect your guidance and wisdom. The kingdom would be less if you did not visit.”

  Nypha’s heart sank. The dragon stared at Dorian, waiting for him to continue but he simply rode on. She knew the words were there, under his tongue. She heard them over and over but he could not bring himself to release himself from an internal binding. A burning touched her heart. Despite his confidence in so many areas, he still did not feel confident on speaking what his heart truly desired.

  Dorian mentally cursed himself. Inner voices screamed at him to keep talking, to say what he had said to Xoli in Nypha’s image. Deep down there was no denying what he felt, what he always felt but the hesitation and doubt took root. Nypha had been his protector and advisor for years. He respected and loved her but the lingering doubt of a man and a dragon spoke volumes. Strange thoughts filtered into his mind, his father speaking and telling him the kingdom would never respect him if he took a dragon as a lover and wife.

  Dorian’s heart beat faster as the thought circled his mind. He wanted Nypha for his own. He wanted her as his lady and fear kept the thought at the fringes of his mind. But now, here in the forest, the thought washed over him like a warm summer tide. Inner angels and demons fought for control as the lord looked on, silent as a tomb. If he didn’t say something soon, he would lose her. Pain crawled into his heart but he remained quiet, plotting a new strategy after his father’s quest was complete.

  Nypha turned her head to the small dirt path. Wisdom had taught her patience but her natural cycle clawed at wanting impulses. The hungry beast at her core wanted to take the lord from his horse and force his sword deep between her thighs. Fighting through the madness, Nypha slapped bonds on her impulses. She knew he would speak his heart’s desire but she must remain patient. When it was right, she would tempt him to her and they would be better for it.

  The lord and dragon continued through the forest, no longer speaking. Dorian pulled out the journal and checked again against landmarks. Hours streamed by until the pair noticed strange, rune carved stones jutting from the mountain and along the forest. The horses trotted and both lord and dragon opened their senses, taking in every shadow and stone. Affairs of the heart melted to the background as the lord and dragon rode up to a set of ancient ruins, a dark and ominous cave before them.

  Dorian eyed the cave entrance, taking note of the runes and a thin mist creeping out from the opening. Bringing his leg up and over, he dismounted, his boots landing on the dirt floor. Taking the journal, he placed it in a saddle bag and turned to the entrance once again.

  Nypha dismounted and stepped to Dorian’s side, sensitive eyes and ears taking in the darkness before them. The dragon could sense magical energy radiating from the cave and it tickled her mind. The runes glowed with a familiar energy but she couldn’t place where she’d felt it before.

  A firm strength took hold of Dorian’s heart as he looked on. “Thank you for accompanying me,” the lord said without looking to Nypha.

  “I can accompany you in,” Nypha said with a touch of concern.

  Dorian turned his eyes to her, “I must do this alone.”

  Nypha watched as the lord began walking toward the entrance. Dorian’s heartbeat grew steadily faster as he stepped to the cave mouth and then beyond. Shadows grew as he stepped in further, eyes the size of saucers. The journal spoke of testing his mind and his mettle but gave no hint to what lay within. Dorian knew how his father thought and his words slid across his mind; nothing is ever given, it must be earned. Images of monsters preyed on him as he stepped deeper and deeper into the inky darkness.

  When the light from outside was nearly snuffed out, Dorian tensed as torches blazed to life along rocky walls. Torches burst again and again along the tunnel. The lord looked on as a room burst with orange and yellow torchlight fifty feet ahead of him. Taking a deep breath, the young lord pressed on.

  Dorian stepped to the opening and peered in. Torches sputtered and danced in a large stone room. The floor was made of square stones but the walls were covered in runes. At the other end of the room, a stone throne stood with a figure sitting on it. The shadows played tricks as Dorian stepped in, trying to make out the details. Reaching the halfway point of the room, he stared with curious caution.

  The throne was carved into the very wall. Light danced along the stone features of a powerful man in full armor. Dorian squinted to see that the figure was also made of stone. When the facial features formed fully in his mind, the young lord could not stop the tremble in his heart.

  A stone statue of Harris Lockwood sat, stone eyes forever open. He wore his favorite armor and a stone pommel of Splitter peeked over his shoulder. The statue was as still and silent as a grave but Dorian could not hold back a small smirk.

  “Hi Da,” Dorian whispered as he kept his gaze on the statue.

  The young lord stepped closer with sadness taking hold. “It h
as been too long. I hope you are resting well in Vala’s paradise.”

  Runes glowed along the small cavern walls. Dorian stayed his ground, knowing full well his father prepared a test that he must pass. Magical energy flared for a long moment before dimming to nothing. Torch light danced on as dust shook from the head of Harris Lockwood, stone gray eyes shifting and gazing at the young lord before him. Stone arms moved and legs shifted slightly. The statue rose up, rock grating against rock.

  Dorian remembered from his lessons with Xoli on magic. Where a normal peasant or adventurer would run in fright, the young lord knew to stay his ground, for many things were capable when magic was involved. The lessons shined bright in his mind of Xoli animating little statues to do her bidding. As amazing as it was, the young lord had no affinity with magic and excelled, instead, in his swordsmanship but he never forgot those magical lessons.

  Harris Lockwood lurched forward on one stone foot and then another. The statue gained a strong composure and stood at its full height, feet from Dorian. The statue stared with gray eyes for a long moment before stone lips parted.

  “My son,” The statue said simply.

  Dorian nodded, “It is me.”

  “You have grown, handsome and strong,” The statue said with a gravelly hiss.

  Dorian fought the urge to step closer, “Is it really you?”

  The statue gave a gravelly chuckle, “I am nothing more than a shadow, called to speak to you when the time had come.”

  The young lord’s eyes cast downward, “You left a journal, telling me of my final test.”

  “And here you are,” Harris Lockwood said, and a gray hand reached up and took hold of his stone sword.

  Dorian watched as the statue of his father drew a replica of the very sword strapped to his own back. Harris brought his arm down, with a stone Splitter in hand. The statue let the sword point down and held out inches from his leg. The statue’s eyes remained frozen as Dorian did nothing but stare.

  “Why must I fight you?” Dorian asked as pain crawled along his heart. “Why after your death, you must continue to test me?”

  The statue remained still for a few moments before words floated from carved gray lips, “The world is an unforgiving place. When you turn old and gray, it will test you until your final breath and the living light leaves your eyes. My final lesson is to teach you about every lesson you will face until death claims you.”

  Dorian fought back the tears as the pain in his heart grew, “Do you know you’re already dead? Do you know that you died trying to protect me?”

  The statue showed no emotion as it took a step forward, “It was only a matter of time before my light was swallowed in the chasm of night. It makes no difference to this possessed stone. I shall teach you and you will learn…..or death will reunite us both.”

  The words rang through Dorian’s spirit. Despite kindness and knowledge, Harris Lockwood was a man who knew, without death, there could be no life. Dorian took in the statues words, knowing full well that it was going to try and kill him. It was the form of his father but it was an instructor, not someone or something to bargain with. It would not know remorse or pity. It was made with the sole intent of teaching Dorian a final lesson.

  The statue took another step forward, “You lack the knowledge to use Splitter affectivity. Today, you will learn how to wield it. Unravel the riddle before I strike you down. Do not think there will be a moment’s hesitation….for I am but a shadow of your father. I will shed no tears for your demise. If you fall, I will take Splitter and guard over it until another….worthy of its power….can wield it.”

  Dorian tipped his head forward as he raised his arm. Fingers curled around the leather covered handle of the sword and drew it in one smooth move over his shoulder. The young lord let the blade rest at his side, shadows covering his eyes and a heat filling his body.

  “Those who sit on the throne must respect it,” the stone Harris Lockwood said before charging the young lord.

  Dorian thought the statue would be slow and unwieldy but it moved like a man with nothing slowing it down. The young lord swung his sword upwards as the statue raised its blade. The metal and stone sword clashed, sparks flying. Dorian felt the statues strength as it crashed into his arms and he spun away. Harris pressed on; swinging his stone sword like it was lighter than air. Bodies moved to a skilled dance as swords clashed. Dorian kept moving, trying to keep the statue at bay but it continued to press forward. Dodging an incoming blade, Dorian crouched down and swept his leg outward at the statue’s ankle. A grunt filled the air and the young lord rolled away as a stone sword sliced downward.

  Dorian rolled back onto his boots and backed off. The statue turned and stalked toward him. A throbbing filled Dorian’s leg and he tried to push it away. The statue was fast, strong, heavy and solid. There was no way he could take it on like a normal fight. He doubted that Splitter would leave a mark if he landed a blow.

  Dorian kept his eyes on the statue as he continued to keep a small distance between them. He knew deep down this wasn’t the true fight. Glancing around, he tried to figure out the riddle or lesson. Thinking back to his father’s words, he knew they contained a clue. Everything he had endured and learned was to teach him and if he didn’t unravel the mystery then the statue was going to end his life.

  The throne blinked in his mind’s eye and the young lord glanced at it. At first he noticed nothing unusual. Harris charged forward and Dorian turned his attention to the statue. The young lord parried the incoming stab and rolled with power bleeding from it. With several long strides, he was in the middle of the room and glancing to the throne once again. Eyes narrowing, that is when he saw it.

  Two words were carved against the back of the throne. They were large but not large enough to read. Turning his body, Dorian bolted toward the throne. The animated statue flashed forward with inhuman speed. Before Dorian could read the words, Harris was before him and swinging his sword.

  Dorian brought up Splitter and parried the incoming blade when a stone fist blinked from the side and smashed him in the cheek. The lord’s body spun in the air and landed about eight feet away on the cold stone floor. Blood filled his mouth as he struggled to get back to his feet. A daze took hold but Dorian fought against it to stand and keep an eye on the statue.

  Harris stood with sword in hand before the throne but he did not move. Gray eyes watched Dorian as he made it back to his feet and backed off. The young lord spit out a small glob of blood as he held Splitter up. The young man could see the statue knew he figured part of it out. It maintained its stance, making sure to stay between it and the throne.

  “Da, I’m going to the throne. Stand aside,” Dorian commanded.

  The statue remained motionless. Dorian regained his wits and kept a strong stance. He knew he had to read what was carved on the throne. There was no way he could keep up with a magical construct. Time slipped away and if this continued on for much longer, he was going to die by his father’s statue.

  “Da, I said stand aside!” Dorian yelled with a growing storm in his spirit.

  The statue remained as it was. The young lord thought back to Nypha and his heart broke. The shroud of death touched the entire cavernous room and Dorian tasted it. The stone statue of Harris Lockwood had become the instrument of his father wishes. Now, Dorian had to decide if he was strong enough to beat death for another day.

  The young lord didn’t scream or shout his defiance. Instead, he stepped forward, arms loose and legs ready. Eyes drank in the statue as he walked toward it, fear bleeding into his spine. Senses galvanized and the young man took that fear and fed off it, keeping his mind alert and on task. When he was close enough, thoughts of Nypha comforted him as he readied himself.

  Harris Lockwood remained frozen until the young lord was within striking distance. Time stopped for a breath before the stone sword flashed forward. Dorian twisted his body to dodge the blade and slipped in low. Splitter flashed forward and struck a stone armored t
high. Sparks flew up and a stone chip fell away as Dorian moved like water. He let momentum carry him forward as Harris changed the direction of his sword and turned his entire body. Dorian knew if he stood up, the stone blade would strike his back full on. Staying low, he pushed off one leg. Body floating as it spun, the sword passed over him, missing by precious inches. Dorian slammed into the ground but rolled up to one hand and both knees. Legs kicked out under him, pushing him back as another sword swing missed his nose by an inch.

  The young lord knew he had to draw the guardian away. Every drop of his energy went to moving and spinning away; luring the statue into thinking it was just close enough to kill him. The cavern came in flashes until the young lord reached the rune covered wall, shot up to his feet and threw his back against it. Harris Lockwood stepped forward with power, stabbing his sword forward. Dorian curved his body, hand planting on the wall and he pushed. Body propelling away, the stone sword slammed into the rune covered wall causing the weapon to crack and shatter.

  Dorian wished he could have yelled in triumph but he was still moving. The stone statue would not be shocked or awed by the breaking of its weapon. He hoped he had enough time to reach the throne and read the words before it counter attacked. Legs propelling the young lord, Dorian dashed for the throne. Eyes drank in the words carved in the stone surface but before they could be comprehended, something hard struck Dorian with such force, feet went up and he was thrown across the room. Splitter went flying from his hand and clattered against the stone floor.

  Eyes wide, Dorian hit the floor and skidded to a halt. Head whipping up, he watched as Harris Lockwood stalked toward him. It no longer held its stone blade as fingers curled into tight fists. The statue moved toward him with depraved indifference as it reached him and lifted a stone boot.

  Dorian rolled away as the boot came down and cracked the hard floor. Dorian fought through the confused haze, eyes on Splitter laying ten feet away. Fingers reached out as he scrambled for his magical blade when a hand grabbed him by the leg. Dorian muttered a curse as the statue pulled him and threw him against the cavern wall.