Chapter 8

Frigid winds wavered through the trees outside today, as William stood surrounded inside of a makeshift barrack. He’d come in to issue orders, yet it had been a bumpy road. One which made the sweat pour down his forehead by the end.

“Men, best of luck out there, yes? I’ll return as soon as I can.”

“Aye, sir!”

William nodded. “Jim, do you understand the situation?”

“Of course I do. ”

“Yeah, of course you do. Best of luck, in any case.”

“You’ll need the luck more than I do. But whatever, you get on your way. Not every day you get a message from the Lord himself. I’m sure it has nothing to do with his son being at your side at every waking hour,” said Jim in a deadpan voice.

Victor shook his head as William came wandering out, his face redder than an Easgandian tomato. The red dragon wasn’t surprised. It didn’t take much to piece together that William had another encounter with Jim, with predictable results. His friend seemed just a sliver more discouraged, as if he had to hand in a piece of his soul this time.

“Everything alright over there?” the dragon asked. William shook his head.

“No. Jim had to perform his insipid little routine again. I swear no one is listening, but after this time, I’m not certain of that anymore. He’s been running his jaw whenever I’m not around.”

Victor grumbled. You know, he’s making it very tempting to unleash the dragon on him. Maybe he’d learn the lesson his parents failed to teach him. But- he clenched his fangs for all to see. No. I’m not succumbing to temptations! That’s what a beast does, and I’m no beast!

The captain tiredly shuffled his way to the red dragon’s side, putting a hand on the top of his leg. “We can get going now. Let’s just get this done and over with, yes?”

“You know this won’t be any ordinary task, yes? ”Victor lowered his head. “You’re acting like this is a boring chore. Like we’re just cleaning sheets in the guild again. My father wouldn’t throw that my way, and I’m not saying that just to puff myself up.”

William shook his head. “I know. But the sooner I’m back to my unit, the sooner I can shut Jim up.”

Victor lowered himself to the stony ground. “I’d kick him to someplace else if I were you,” he said, raising William up onto his back with one claw. The captain sighed as he made himself comfortable in between the wing joints.

“Personal issues aren’t reason enough to get approval for that. Believe me, I tried. All I was told was to man up. No, I don’t get it either.”

“Reminds me of what that grey scaled bitch Merahn would tell me,” Victor grumbled while getting ready to take off. “Word for word, all that’s missing is some flowery nonsense about dragon blood and preserving honour. Real dragons have no issue shedding their humanity, apparently.”

“Wonder where she is now,” William asked. Victor scoffed.

“Whatever pit she slithered out of, hopefully.”

* * *

The dragon and his knight passed over Whitestream and the vastness of western Lokahn without any hassle. The wind wasn’t cooperating, but Victor knew how to manage. His eyes had a thin shield-like component keeping them protected, plus he’d been given his own dragon sized spectacles on top of that. William wasn’t raising the alarm, and was seated fine; his legs and rear weren’t shifting much.

The lone concern was the flight taking so long in the first place. Lothar wanted to hold this meeting all the way in Westedge, despite this mission being supposedly urgent. The urgency wasn’t dire enough to not have to spend a day in the air, by the looks of it.

And so, despite the wind being manageable enough and always finding some joy from a flight, Victor was grumbling from the moment his feet had left the ground, past the moment when the Origin Mountains began to creep up the horizon, all the way until they touched back down inside the walls of Whitestream. Morning had turned to evening, the once busy streets had been deserted by most reasonable folk. What’s left was the City Guard, a few stragglers, and a handful of rowdy crowds gathered over bottles of cheap cider. Victor shook his head as he let William off.

‘Gods almighty, it’s been all of two, three years! Where did all these morons come from?’

The drunkards aside, Westedge wasn’t much different than the last time the red dragon was here. A new building here, a fresh timber surface or lick of paint there. Any damage from three years ago had been repaired. The war was little more than a distant memory here, it seemed.

If anything, the lack of people stood out. Even then, as they made their way to the gardens, Victor wasn’t so surprised by that anymore. The front had long moved away from this city. It was halfway across the country now, safeguarded by miles upon miles of dense forests and unconquerable mountains. No Justitians to be found here. So no need to keep a huge army around.

The city’s Draconist Temples were hotspots of activity at this hour: Efforts to reconnect the population with the faith were paying off: There were people praying outside. A few years ago, that happened because there was only one temple, and there wasn’t enough room. Many more had opened since then: Victor counted at least three on their way to the garden.

“Heeey! Vic!!”

Wings flapped overhead. Victor saw William jump aside, eyes wide from a surprise that wasn’t really a surprise. Already his mind had an inkling of what was about to happen, right before two claws followed by the rest of the dragon crashing right upon him. Victor’s legs buckled instantly; down he went to the sounds of a giggling dragoness.

“Gotcha! Didn’t think you could get away from me, could you?”

Victor shook his head. “What? Of course not, Cel, you said yourself we could-”

Celesta tilted her head exactly forty five degrees. She bore a teasing smile on her snout. Victor gulped. He knew precisely what was coming next.

“Attend the meeting together? Oooh yes, yes I did say that! Buuut you didn’t wait for me, did you? You were all like, I’ll get Will, then I’ll go aaall on my own over the big bad skies of Lokahn without any help! And you know what happened that one time, didn’t ya? The big bad red dragon crying out my name, ‘cause he got lost!”

“That happened one time!”

“Ooh, but it did happen, didn’t it?” Celesta said, blinking rapidly. “And then there was the time you got stuck in a tree! Haha, had to help you with that too, didn’t I?”

Victor groaned. “Yes. Yes you did.”

“Oh yes! And then let’s not forget the time you asked to do something with me,” she said with a wink. Victor’s eyes went wide.

“No, don’t-”

“Ooh, you were all bubbly and could barely say a word! You were so nervous about it! Didn’t know how to say it even though I was waiting for you to ask! Hahaha!”

While Celesta laughed herself silly, Victor sighed; his ears caught wind of William chuckling on his back. What luck did he have that the streets were abandoned at this hour. Half of Westedge would think their future king was a complete pushover if they’d heard this. All that lecturing about appearing royal from his father would’ve been for naught.

Still, it wasn’t so bad. That was just who he was. And that was just who Celesta was. His heart was beating rapidly at those memories Celesta fired his way, each one still as vivid as the day they were made in his mind. What he’d given the gods to end up with her was something he didn’t know, but he felt blessed regardless.

“A-alright then, can we uh, can we get going to the gardens now? Before my father gets as grumpy as he does whenever Raghes shows up. It’s not preferable.”

Celesta chuckled back at the red dragon. “Oh, certainly! That’s what we’re here for after all.”

Trying his damndest to suppress the puffiness of his cheeks, Victor made his way through the streets to the Westedge Gardens, Celesta pursuing close behind. All the while, William was smacking himself in the face in between Victor’s wings. Said smacks were always preceded by a faint laughter.

Unlike the temples, the garden was empty as empty as the streets were. There were dragons at the entrance blocking entry to anyone ‘without permission’ to enter at this hour. Every commoner in the city, in other words. Victor clicked his tongue as he passed. He glanced over his shoulder. Just over his wing, he saw a frail, morose looking man stare at him. His leg was heavily bandaged; it was clear he couldn’t stand on it.

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Victor’s head snapped back to the road. He was dragging his tail behind him; William said nothing about it. His laughing had ceased. Celesta too wasn’t laughing any more. Victor shook his head.

This is no way to treat the people who gave everything for Lokahn, is it?

Darkness had conquered the sky, yet lamps kept the garden well lit. That and his sharp eyesight gave Victor a clear view of where he was going. The garden had changed significantly in these past two years. Lilies, dandelions and a variety of other flora had made the grasses their home. A handful of bees were buzzing around, trying to scoop up some pollen before it was too dark to go out. A few beetles made their presence known by smell as well. An unamused Victor tilted his head away.

Disgusting little things.

Following the lamps, Victor passed through a barrier of trees to the spot his father loved to spend time the most. There were no fellow Draconists in prayer here, yet the altar was lit, and the candles were filling the air with wax. Square in the center of the rectangular gravel patch sat his father, his dull stare fixated on the altar. Victor sat at the edge, and Celesta followed.

“You asked for us, father?”

The gold dragon turned his head. “Ah. There you are at last, son. I was wondering where you had been, but that question has been answered already. Your mate is there,” he rumbled, eyeing Celesta with a curious glint, who raised a claw to her snout at the word ‘mate’.

“H-hey, we’re, we’re just friends alright?” Victor said, having recoiled strong enough for William to partially be thrown off balance. The captain had tightened his grip on the red dragon’s back; another smacking sound reached Victor’s pointy ears. “I-it’s not what you-”

“Oh, it’s okay, Vic. He knows already,” Celesta giggled.

“I most certainly do,” Lothar rumbled contently. “Son, have no fear. Your chosen mate hails from a noble lineage. She will make a fine queen when your turn to rule Lokahn comes. And I most certainly look forward to seeing my grandchildren when the time arrives.” The gold dragon breathed in deep. “My grandchildren. And they will be of dragon blood.”

“L-Look, I-I don’t like this whole ‘mate’ thing, alright? We’re not married or anything.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” William blurted out in between laughing fits.

“Dragons do not get married. The bond is natural,” Lothar deadpanned.

“N-No, but we’re not beasts, alright?! We’re still human deep down!” Victor rambled, his cheeks puffy, his tail nervously swishing, his ears vibrating from the chuckling behind his head. “W-we’re not here to talk about Celesta, alright?! The mission!! Please!!”

The red dragon lowered his head, panting all the while. Much as he hated to admit it, the damage had already been done. Celesta was laughing like a dolphin, William couldn’t keep together, and even his normally serious father had a devious grin on his face. All the tension had blown off by now. It was like going through the city, then tripping over a box. Face first into a carriage. Then falling backwards into a pool of mud. While twenty people watched. Why twenty? Why not. At least it wasn’t thirty. Yet.

Blowing the air out his nose, Lothar composed himself better. “Anyway! Your attention, please. Much as I enjoy a good sense of humour, we live in dire times. This is an utmost serious calling I have for you all. Victor, the future king. Celesta, the future queen. William Morris, a likely contender for command over the army. Your future callings are set in stone as far as I am concerned, but the people would beg to differ. They know little of you, and can dismiss you as mere rabble with the same difficulty with which one can wag their finger.”

Victor’s lips puckered inwards slightly. Still did he feel the butterflies in his stomach from that jokey moment, and he wasn’t in the mood to give a straight answer yet. Celesta’s first instinct was not to answer either, but to raise a claw to her chin instead. William however, had something to say about it. Something that didn’t involve laughing.

“This is about an old artefact, isn’t it?” William asked. “My lord, pardon me for saying this, but I was an ordinary Lokahnian only three years ago, and I wouldn’t let any old item sway my thoughts so easily, least of all on big matters such as these. None of my fellow Lokahnians back home would let that happen, either.”

A soft rumble came out of Lothar’s throat, making William duck behind Victor’s head. But all the gold dragon did was shake his head.

“Oh, but this is no mere old and dusty artifact, Captain William. You are right in saying that no one would mind if it was, but this is much more.” Lothar craned his head towards the sky. “What I speak of is a recent discovery. One that we have tried to keep hidden as best we could, but I fear this information may have fallen upon the wrong ears already.”

“What is it?” Celesta asked, her tail tip curiously twitching, to which Lothar rumbled.

“You are true Lokahnians since birth, yes?” the gold dragon asked. All three nodded. “Indeed you are. Then there is not a chance that you have not been taught the story of Lokahn’s founding ruler.”

Celesta’s ears poked up. “King Reval! Of course I know who he is! My dad’s told me all about him for as long as I can remember. He would often read his story to me before bedtime. He’s the one that didn’t just establish our country, but Draconism too! He’s why we’re doing this. Why we became dragons, why we are… well, who we are,” she said with grandiose gestures that used both her wings and her claws; she was sitting on her hindquarters to perform them. “That man’s always been my hero, even though I’ve only ever heard of him in stories. Even when the odds seemed impossible, he never gave up. He always pushed through. It made me never want to give up either, even after the imperials took my mother away.”

The lavender dragoness breathed in deep, then bowed. Lothar turned his head towards his son. “And you, Vykroz? Certainly you remember me teaching you the story.”

Victor clicked his tongue. “It’s difficult to forget. You read it to me all the time when I was little. There’s a lot about those times I have no memories of, but that? Can’t forget it,” he said.

Lothar smiled. “And you, William?” he asked, his head tilted up. William’s head poked out in between Victor’s pale horns.

“O-of course I do, my lord. My parents didn’t want me to be ignorant.”

“Good enough,” the gold dragon rumbled, then growled as he cleared his throat; William sank back down. “The reason I bring this ancient tale up is simple. Victor. Reval’s final resting place has been found.”

“Really?” Victor tilted his head. “I thought it would be impossible to find. Wasn’t that how the legend goes-”

“Y-you mean you want us to go to his tomb?!” Celesta said, her voice closer to a teenage girl squealing than anything else. Victor snorted. What an odd sound for a dragon to make.

“Most certainly,” Lothar said with a bow. “Reval’s tomb is not to be disturbed, that is very true… with one exception. And that is in a time of great need. And this time most certainly passed, does it not? Faith and country are in mortal peril. Either we take the artefact and end this conflict for good, or what remains of our people will forever be subservient to a devilish empire, if they are not outright wiped out.” Lothar’s gaze narrowed into a dire frown. “I will not allow the great Draconist faith to die out. We are the standard bearers of Reval’s legacy.”

“We’re going,” Victor shouted; Celesta voiced her approval right after. “If this can end the war, it will be worth it.” And I won’t have it any other way.

“Wait, wait a minute,” William shouted. No dragon present was impressed, but they listened regardless.

“Go on,” Lothar rumbled.

“Yes, yes.” William wiped down his brow. “Look, I believe you when you say this is important. I didn’t think dragons anything more than a myth for most of my life, and well, now my best friend is one. But we don’t know anything about this tomb. Where it is, what we can expect, we don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

Lothar’s wings fluttered. “Most acceptable points, Captain William. Allow me to address them as best I can. You are searching for the crown Reval wore when he was king. Alas, our only information on the tomb comes from sources written many hundreds of years ago, when Reval had only just passed.”

The gold dragon cleared his throat while tilting his head backwards.“According to these sources, the crown rests on a pedestal before his grave. But Reval was not buried in any ordinary tomb. He wished to be buried along with his most trusted friends, advisors, his dragon companion and most loyal subjects. To get to his tomb, one must traverse through the vast catacombs where his comrades rest. This will not be easy. It is further said that special security mechanisms had been installed when the tombs were being covered up. You must be on your guard during your search, lest you perish.”

William grimaced; a shaky breath passed between his teeth. “Are there any other ways in? This sounds like one hell of a struggle. We don’t even know if dragons can fit into the tombs.”

“On that, you need not worry,” Lothar grumbled. “Reval’s tomb was specifically constructed for any remaining dragons to pay their respects before their time to go came. You will fit into the tomb. There is no doubt in my mind of this. As for an alternate entrance, however…”

The gold dragon let out a weary sigh, as if he had been pondering this same question over himself for some time, with nothing but disappointment waiting at the end.

“There is an alternate entrance, but we do not know where it is. We do not have time to find it. Chances are strong that after the tomb had been hidden away, the entrance may have been demolished, regardless,” he said, his words tapering off into a hiss.

Victor’s eyes sharpened like the blade of a dagger. Those last few words were nothing more than a guess. A gambit a fool would wager when betting money on the dice. Or in Lothar’s case, his reputation. Wisdomful this wasn’t, and Victor wondered why he even said it at all. The urgency of the situation needed no one to speak for it, its voice was clear and pristine like a bell ringing through the night. The mood grew uneasy, as the more Victor thought about it, the more it seemed as if he was saying it for his own sake.

“I don’t see why they would demolish the other entrance,” Victor said.

“Because it would not be needed any more, Vykroz,” Lothar retorted. “After Reval’s closest passed, the only ones that should see his tomb are the ones worthy enough to pass through the catacombs. So the sources say. This is not up for debate,” he grumbled, his voice stern and his tail lashing out behind him, almost knocking over candles on the altar in the process. Victor softly clicked his tongue.

“I, I see.” The clicking was replaced by a gulp. “So, uh, when you want us to leave for the tomb?”

Lothar growled. “As soon as you can. Remember, this is no ordinary task. The future of Lokahn depends on this. With the powers Divinity blessed that crown with, as well as the unity and righteousness all Lokahnians associate with that crown, we can win this war.”

“Yes! We can do this, I have full faith in this, my lord,” Celesta said, leaning on her forelegs as if she were about to pounce.. “Vic, Will, we’ve got our work cut out ahead of us. We’re going to do this! We’re going to see Reval’s grave! We’re going to see his crown!! How can you have doubts here?!”

Celesta was practically hopping up and down now. The tale of Reval had a storied history behind it, but it was just that; a tale. Victor wasn’t convinced, and given the way he was crossing his arms and tilting his head, William wasn’t, either. Reval’s life had ended a millennium earlier. Since then, he had become little more than a myth. A myth pictured on the Lokahnian flag, read to before bed time, and recited during a prayer every now and then. Who today would be able to tell if it was all true?

After hearing of their trip to the tomb being prepared for them, then bidding Lothar farewell, Celesta escorted Victor and William out of the garden with a bounce to her steps. Her tail swayed back and forth, her head was raised much like her voice had gone up a pitch, all the way out of the garden, through the dusky city streets, past the city gate, even in the fields surrounding Westedge.

“I still can’t believe it, we’ll get to see Reval’s tomb! The one and only Reval! We’re gonna be the first people in hundreds of years to see it, Vic! We! And William too, but we’re gonna be there!”

Victor had a dumbfounded look on his snout as he helped William climb off his back with a claw. “Err, you didn’t just agree to do this only because of that, right?”

Even in the dark, Victor had no trouble spotting the dragoness’ cheeks puff up. “Well, ehrm, kind of… think of it like a date, Vic. That’s what a date is, right? We go to a nice location to talk-”

The red dragon reeled his head back. “There’s better places to talk than in a tomb, c’mon.” I’m a hopeless romantic and even I know that.

“Yeah. Besides, this isn’t just some sweet trip we’re going on, is it? We need to get the crown from the tomb, not just walk around there,” William said, messing with his beard.

“Exactly!” Victor shouted. “Will’s got a great point, we can’t just mess around. We’d get killed if we’re not careful.”

Celesta tilted her head in confusion. “He didn’t say anything about getting killed though, didn’t he?”

“He specifically mentioned security mechanisms down there in the tomb. What do you think those would be? Some extra tight locks? Some rocks to jump over? Of course not. We’re talking traps here, lethal ones. The kind we set up on the front all the time,” William explained. “You can’t fly over them, either. The tomb can’t be that big.”

“We’ll see that for when the time’s right,” Victor said. “Do you think we’d get extra people on the trip?”

“No.” Celesta shook her head.

“Why not?” the red dragon asked.

“We can do it fine on our own.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually.”

“How?”

“Well, why would the tomb let a ton of people in? There’d be other things buried there aside from Reval and his crown. You don’t want a bunch of idiots running in robbing the place, either. They’d design the place to only let a few in,” Celesta said. Her voice droned on in a dull tone, like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else. Victor lowered himself onto the ground.

“Well, yeah, that makes sense I guess, but we’re both dragons. And not small dragons, either. Surely there’s room for-”

A hand touched Victor’s neck. “I don’t think that’s what she meant, Vic.”

“Huh?” Victor blurted out. I wasn’t even finished yet.

The captain backed off, one hand resting on his crossbow, the other on the free side of his belt. “That tomb probably has magic protection that can detect how many entered. Only a few people can pass through. At least through the entrance we’ve found. Don’t know if that other entrance that might be out there changes anything.”

“Word for word,” Celesta said. “Word for word right there. That kind of magic was perfectly well known to dragons back then. It should still be there. So no, we have to go in with as few as possible. Okay?”

Victor sighed. “Okay then.” Somehow, I’m getting the sense that there’s more than meets the eye here. But what though? Can’t think of anything. Ugh, it’s dark, I’ve been flying all day, I need to get some sleep first.

All three agreed to meet up again tomorrow morning. For now, the moon was full in the night, and this was no time for the civilised to discuss things.