Metal and Magic: A Fantasy Journey

by Steve Windsor

  “Give chase!” barked King Vitalis. “Sound the alarm bells and notify all guards of the dragol’s presence. Do not kill it. We need to capture it alive!”

  “Yes your majesty!!” The guards said in unison as they filed out. The sword wielder had gotten back on his feet and retrieved his sword.

  “Obin.” The king said, addressing the wielder.

  “My apologies your highness. I let it escape.” Obin replied, somberly.

  “It hasn’t escaped yet, Obin. See to it that it doesn’t.”

  “At once.”

  The king sighed deeply.

  “Your highness?” Obin asked out of curiosity.

  “It’s that troublesome Angwelethean wizard. He’s always been a harbinger of bad news.”

  “He seems to be right most of the time your highness.”

  “That he is... unfortunately. Now go.”

  With that, Obin leaped out of the window as well. As he fell, he pointed his sword towards the ground. At first nothing happened, and then seemingly out of nothing, a skeletal structure began to form rapidly, starting from the hoof upwards. As it formed, so did the nerves, blood vessels and muscles. Finally, the skin was formed just as Obin hit the horse’s back causing it to neigh. He winced in pain from the impact.

  “Not one of my best ideas.” He said between gnashed teeth. With a quick pat on the side of the horse, he was off racing in the direction the dragol had gone.

  The dragol was up ahead, zigzagging through the streets of the castle’s compound in order to avoid the fusillade of arrows that were being sent its way. It knew it had to get beyond the enormous walls of King Vitalis’s castle to have any chance of escape. As the dragol leaped in the air and over one of the small buildings lining the street, an arrow struck its side. The force of impact knocked it slightly off course, causing it to fall. The dragol quickly got up and leaped over a sword slash by one of the Beathalethean soldiers. As it pivoted in mid-air, it reached out and slashed at the face of the soldier that had attacked it, nearly ripping it off. The soldier fell to the ground dead, just as the dragol landed on its feet. No sooner had it landed than it was dodging swipes by two other guards, and backing into the wall of the building it had tried to leap over. The dragol bent down low to avoid swipes from both sides and used its tail to take the guards feet from under them. As it moved in for the kill, it was impaled in the abdomen by another arrow from the archers who moved in tandem with the other soldiers in their pursuit of it. The dragol howled in pain and leaped on top of the building. The soldiers gave chase on the ground while the dragol leaped from roof top to roof top. A guard who had climbed up onto one of the rooftops jumped out in front of the dragol and attempted to stab it in the chest, but he was quickly and brutally mauled with claws and teeth. The dragol picked up the guard’s long sword.

  “Where is he?” shouted a soldier on the ground.

  “I don’t see him!” A second soldier replied.

  “He must still be on the rooftops. Get up there and check!” The first soldier barked.

  “Do you see anything?” The second soldier asked a third soldier on the rooftop.

  “No. But there is a pool of blood here.” The third soldier responded.

  “Well get down here. Help us look for him. We must take him alive.”

  The third soldier nodded and began climbing down after the second soldier who had climbed up. The first soldier had already headed off in another direction, in search of the dragol. As the other two soldiers continued searching for the dragol, the third soldier began to slowly unsheathe his sword. He began walking faster, gaining ground on the second. When he was right behind him he lifted up his sword and stabbed down. The clang of metal startled the second soldier who looked behind him to see Obin blocking the third soldier’s sword.

  “Wh... why?” The second soldier asked.

  “Why?” Obin asked. “This man you see here is the dragol we are looking for. Blenders they are called, but this one is an alpha blender... a stronger breed. Blenders are the weakest of the dragol but one of the most lethal if you ask me. They can turn into any being they come in contact with or kill and they can become invisible or change the color of their skin to match their surroundings. Very smart creatures they are.”

  “My Lynda!” The soldier exclaimed.

  “Ah... exactly.” Obin concurred. “Retreat for now soldier.”

  “What? My lord I cannot possibly...”

  “Soldier... if you stay here, this thing will kill you or if you are lucky, you’ll kill it out of fear. I have our majesty’s orders to bring it back alive. Now retreat. You’ll only hinder me.” Obin said as he continued to push back on the dragol’s sword.

  “Y...yes my lord.” The soldier retreated and began to convey Obin’s wishes to the rest of the pursuing soldiers. Obin turned to the dragol, still in the guise of the soldier it had killed.

  “Now then. Shall we begin?”

  The dragol reached back and swung down with sword in hand. Despite being in the guise of the soldier, the beastly strength was still very much there. The ground in which Obin had stood was cracked by the blow of the sword. The dragol had instantly launched into a thrusting attack but Obin sidestepped the attack and swung horizontally with his sword, flat face first towards the dragol’s neck. Obin’s sword was an unusually shaped one. It started out at standard length but widened all the way to the tip which was at an angle, as the cutting side was longer than the dull side. Therefore the top of the sword blade was slanted. Also, through the length of the sword, were five small holes in the center of the blade that glowed with a bluish-white magical energy and left a streak of said colors in the wake of the blade, whenever he swung.

  The dragol had managed to avoid Obin’s counter attack and swung with its tail, which it had temporarily released, at Obin. Obin moved in close to the dragol, to escape the impact of the loose part of the tail. He used his sword handle and left hand to parry what would have been a quick succession of fatal blows by the dragol’s temporarily released left claw. Obin backed into the dragol and yanked it by the neck, twisting it over his shoulder, and slamming it forcefully on the ground. His foot came down forcefully towards the beast’s head, but the dragol rolled out of the way, and pushed itself back up to its feet just in time to avoid the follow up swipe of Obin’s sword that would have surely lacerated its stomach. The dragol made to take a swing of its own but Obin parried and made a dash for the dragol’s left side. Before the dragol could react, Obin had slashed through its left torso and also down on its left thigh. The dragol fell to one knee, but staggered back up as it oscillated between its true form and the form of the guard it had last killed.

  “It is getting harder to keep up appearances isn’t it?”

  The dragol glared at Obin as they both slowly encircled each other. Obin observed the dragol and noticed its arrow wounds, including the ones he had just inflicted.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to lay down your sword and give in? Why go through more pain?”

  “To let myself be captured by a mere human? The thought repulses me.” The dragol said, settling on assuming its original form. It launched itself at Obin.

  “I’m glad it does.” Obin said as he tilted his hat lower on his head and began to outmaneuver the dragol, while negating all its attacks. Obin moved swiftly, and seemingly effortlessly. He was deceptively fast for being a fairly tall and yet muscular man. His strength was unquestioned. The dragol was panicking and Obin could tell. He smiled as he quickly parried three swipes by the dragol and opened up a gash in its chest before it could react. The dragol staggered forward and made to attack again, but froze when it saw the glowing essence from Obin’s sword brighten and pulsate. The holes in the blade suddenly fired a pulse of energy at the dragol, knocking it to the ground instantly. The dragol made to get up but could not move. Its entire body throbbed in pain. When it looked up, it could see that the tip of Obin’s blade was pointed in between its eyes.

  “You will pry out no w
ords of importance from me.” The dragol said defiantly in a deep masculine voice.

  “Humans don’t need to hear the words of a pathetic lizard. There are other ways to know what is necessary. But, before we begin, I have one question for you. How repulsed are you now?”

  King Sidion Vror sat in the all too familiar secret meeting room with the all too familiar principals and his trusted death class soldier, Trudor. However, there was one stark difference to this meeting. A chair was noticeably vacant.

  “Two moons ago, Balek stated that he sensed the Miljorn aura around you.” Viritania said. “We sent him to confirm this, and to exterminate Rikard Miljorn’s offspring. Balek was instead, killed by this... Davydd Miljorn as you call him.”

  “It was an unfortunate circumstance.” Sidion Vror said almost exasperated.

  The truth was he secretly rejoiced at the death of Balek. The fewer principals there were to deal with, the better. Besides, he never did like Balek. Not that he liked any of the dragol, but Balek was an especially obnoxious dragol. What shocked him was the fact that Davydd had actually managed to kill a dragol, and not just any dragol. He had taken down a principal. The last time any human did that was two decades and three years ago, when Rikard Miljorn single-handedly defeated three. And the last time before that? Well... it had never been done before that.

  “Unfortunate?” Viritania asked, obviously infuriated. “You lied to us about the reason for your trip. Now this Davydd Miljorn poses a threat to our plans.”

  “I will deal with the matter of Davydd accordingly. I faced him. He is young, inexperienced and guided by a set of ideals that are not his own, but rather inherited. Once I have found him, and the gauntlet of Feona, I will crush those inherited ideals once and for all.”

  “Do it expediently Sidion.” Another dragol said. He was not sitting at the table and revealed himself as he walked into the wash of moonlight coming in from the skylight in the ceiling above.

  “O... Omni...” Sidion said, momentarily losing his composure.

  “King... Vror. One of our seeds was killed two days ago in Beathaleth. They were well informed of our seed’s presence. Do you know who else is well aware of our current plan?”

  Sidion Vror did not attempt to respond.

  “I take it that you do.” Omni’s voice was full of deathly intent as he made his way to Sidion Vror’s chair.

  “If you do not take care of Davydd Miljorn and his troublesome group, if you let us find him first, your daughter will experience a most excruciating death. This I promise you.”

  Omni noticed Sidion’s look of terror and smiled.

  “Yes king Vror, we know she’s alive. Her death at this point would be meaningless, so deliver Davydd’s head and she lives. Fail to do so and I will personally rip her head from her neck in front of you, after subjecting you to watch her suffer exceedingly.”

  Omni, who had turned his back on Sidion while talking, and had his hands behind his back, turned his head to glare at Sidion.

  “Now then, will we be hearing of any more unfortunate circumstances?”

  Sidion shook his head, signaling a no.

  “I will... take care of this.”

  Omni turned to look at Trudor, who flashed him a glance and then looked away.

  “Good.” Omni said. “I know you will. Do not worry human, the sooner you find the gauntlet and kill that boy, the sooner all your worries will be distant memories. Get to work. Oh and one more thing. The fact that I am here should tell you something. Our restrictions will not last forever Sidion.”

  And with that, all the dragol were instantly gone, leaving the two men sitting in silence. After a short while Sidion spoke.

  “Trudor, assemble as many soldiers as you can for my ship. Select death, undertaker and executioner class soldiers, and no one lower. Send word to prep my ship! We leave in five days.”

  “What is our destination your majesty?” Trudor said, getting up.

  “Sangwa.”

  “We leave for Beathaleth your majesty?”

  “Yes... we leave for Beathaleth.”

  Trudor slowly nodded. “At once your majesty.”

  “I will be taking Farok with me on this trip, not you. You will stay behind and preside over matters in my absence. Nistam will be at your command, but remember his loyalty lies with me.”

  “As does mine, your majesty.”

  “Good. From this moment we are to assume that king Darius is no longer our ally, as I am sure Matilom made him well aware of our plans here.”

  “And king Darius believed him?”

  “It’s no surprise. I should have foreseen such an event. They have always maintained a beneficial relationship and there is a fair amount of trust between them. Your first task will be to increase our military presence at our outposts, borders and shores. Despite their friendship, I doubt king Darius is the only one that troublesome wizard has managed to convince. Go now Trudor. Time is a luxury we do not have.”

  “Your majesty.” Trudor said as he bowed and left the room.

  The ship arrived at the docks of Sangwa just as darkness had begun to rapidly envelop the port city. As dock workers began to frantically secure the huge sea vessel, screaming commands at each other as they did, a step ladder was deployed from the side of the ship hull, coming down and resting gently on the dock’s platform. Its members began to slowly disembark soon after. Among them were Ergol and his men, Matilom, Sam, Leo, Max, Baximus, Davydd, Vannera and Segmiatus. Davydd walked beside Vannera, constantly stealing glances at her but not getting any in response. Vannera could feel his eyes on her and she wanted so badly to turn towards him, and say something. Anything. The tension was palpable. But fear would not let her speak to him.

  How can I keep looking you in the eyes and not tell you the truth?

  “Talk to me, Vannera.”

  The princess didn’t respond. She kept walking with her eyes transfixed on something, or nothing at all. Davydd walked in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders gently.

  “Vannera... look at me.”

  She slowly lifted her gaze as her green eyes met his.

  “What troubles you?” Davydd asked.

  “Nothing.” Her response was terse.

  Davydd sighed heavily.

  “I do not want to call you a liar, and yet I can’t tell you I don’t believe you, without implying as much.”

  Vannera took in a deep breath and swallowed, keeping her lips pressed almost as though she was fighting back the words that struggled to escape from her lips. She looked at him knowing that the truth he sought from her was emanating from him, it was all around him and she could see it as clearly as she could see the lights beyond him in the inns and taverns near the dock. A chilly breeze was now blowing in and caused her to lean in to him, resting her head on his chest. She looked up at him and kissed him softly as she did.

  “We should get going. It is unwise to stand out here for too long.”

  Davydd nodded in agreement and stepped aside, letting her walk ahead of him. He stood watching her for a moment.

  “What troubles you?” Max asked.

  “What troubles her?” Davydd responded.

  “Mmmm... women. They are the great mystery of life.”

  “Have I wronged her Max?”

  “Who says you did?”

  “Then what could be the matter?”

  Max shrugged.

  “You really want to know the answer?” He finally asked.

  Davydd shot him an exasperated look.

  “Alright, alright.” Max said upon seeing Davydd’s frustration.

  “Wait for it.”

  “Max I don’t have time for...”

  “Davydd... if you really want to know the answer, wait for it. Now, we are in a new town, so let’s become one with it shall we? And I’m looking at the best way to do that. Isn’t that so?” Max turned to Sam and Leo who were heading their way, after helping to off-load some of the cargo from the ship.

  “D
on’t forget about me.” Segmiatus said joining them. “It’ll be just like old times right Davydd?” Segmiatus laughed along with the others and Davydd joined in.

  “I suppose so. Just don’t get into any fights this time.”

  “I dare not, especially if you are too busy with the women to help me.”

  The group began walking towards the town laughing and joking as they did.

  Matilom, Baximus and Ergol watched as the younger men went off.

  “Remember when we were like that?” Ergol asked.

  “I don’t remember.” Matilom responded, drawing laughter from both Ergol and Baximus.

  “Of course you don’t.” Ergol said. “Your time was up decades ago you old relic.”

  “Right you are.” Matilom concurred. “But alas, I have unfinished business and a service to the Miljorns. I can rest afterwards.”

  “Let us enjoy these few days of calm while we have it. We could all use a bit of well-deserved resting time.” And with that, they made their way to the inns of Sangwa.

  In a room at one of those inns, Princess Vannera stood by the balcony and gazed in the direction of the taverns. In one of those taverns, was Davydd Miljorn. Even from this distance, she could see him as clear as day. He was unique. He sat like a diamond among stones. And yet he knew not who he really was.

  I don’t want to call you a liar...

  Hadn’t he been denied the truth long enough? She recollected the burning anger she felt when she discovered what her father was really up to, or when that discovery had nearly cost her, her life. There was also the anger she felt as she listened to Baximus tear Davydd’s reality apart with the truth on the night he was rescued from the outpost. She had secretly resolved then and there never to protect him with a lie. Yet here she was, ‘protecting’ him with the absence of truth. She made up her mind. She would wait on him, and when he returned to their room, she would tell him the truth. He deserved that much. But she would consult with Matilom first. With her resolve solidified, she lay down to rest a little while.