Chapter 14
“Grudent is dead.”
Raghes’ soft spoken words made the other commanders fall silent. They entered a dreamlike state, unable to reply or so much as acknowledge one another. Lothar’s eyes stared straight in the direction of the dark blue dragon as if he were fully transparent. As if he wasn’t there. So many questions, so many potential answers that would double the amount of questions. It was a nerve wracking, solemn moment, one that Raghes angrily interrupted.
“Are you even listening to me? Grudent is dead!” Raghes repeated, his tail lashing out behind him. Merahn now sobbed softly by herself in the corner, without her friend to keep her company. The everburning torch on the wall near her flickered solemnly.
“How?” said Lothar, “How did this happen, Raghes? Tell us everything.”
Raghes closed his eyes, and sucked in air through his teeth. His ear fins flattened against his head. “Let’s start at the beginning. Grudent went on a mission with another dragon to answer the distress call sent by the Triumph’s local resistance, yes?” The other dragons all nodded. Raghes breathed another batch of damp air in. “Good, we know that. Everything I’ll say is precisely what the survivor told me, so none of this is my words.”
Lothar nodded his magnificent head. “Go on, tell us what this survivor had to say.” It will most assuredly be something I can guess myself, though. Raghes seems vindicated... yes, I have an idea on what has transpired.
“Well, they flew out to the eastern Nightsilk Woods, close by the Sunlit Marshes by Aut- I mean, Divinity’s Triumph-”
Lothar’s wings spread out in full bloom, as a low growl rolled out of his throat. “Never say that again,” he said, stamping a foreleg into the ground. His stern voice made the majority of gathered dragons shiver.
“S-sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean to. But yes, they made contact with the local human resistance group there. Or what was left of it, anyway.”
“Please, Raghes.” A black-scaled dragon with monstrous red eyes spoke up from a dark corner in the room. “This is not a laughing matter, we’re talking about our fellow allies in this struggle. Please do not take their suffering lightly,” he continued in a peaceful, soft tone. He was kind, yet disappointed in a parental manner.
Raghes clicked his tongue, and softly groaned as his sharp teeth scraped his tongue after the click. “Yes, Novekk, I know that, my apologies. By the way, why are you here? Don’t you have the sick and injured to look after?”
Novekk leaned backwards, his tail swishing back and forth on the ground. “Well, you’ll have to ask Lord Lothar that, since he asked for my presence here, and I respect every wish and request he has.” Raghes peeked with the corner of his eyes towards Lothar, whose throat rumbled on cue.
“Okay, okay, my apologies, let’s move on...” Raghes formed a fist, and punched his chest in frustration. “Of the roughly fifty men they had, six managed to get away. The rest all perished. They weren’t expecting an assault, and the attackers came out of nowhere. As such, they haphazardly cobbled together an escape, which is why there’s so few survivors.”
“Do we know who organized this attack?”
Raghes shook his head. ”No, we don’t actually. One thing’s for sure though, they were well prepared and equipped. They thought the attackers weren’t imperial troops, but that’s not certain.”
“Where are the survivors now? Are they hurt?” Novekk asked.
“Their plan is to link up with the resistance here and accept the blessing, but first they’ll be chasing down a lead on their attackers. And no, they’re not injured, fortunately.”
“I want to hear about Grudent’s fate,” Lothar’s voice boomed, “Tell me, Raghes. How did he wind up dead on a simple diplomatic mission?”
“Err, well...” Raghes swallowed some of his saliva, his tail having curled around his legs. “According to his companion, when the survivors mentioned their casualties, Grudent flew into a rage. He roared, spat out that he would ‘avenge my brothers,’ and flew off to hunt down the attacking party. His companion wasn’t eager to follow him, and stayed with the men for some time before they encouraged him to go after Grudent.”
Merahn hissed with her maw wide open. She whipped her tail around, kicking lonely pebbles against the walls. Novekk’s muscles tensed up in response, and he gestured at her with a foreleg to calm down. She closed her jaws, and frowned at Novekk. Soon afterwards, she resumed her sniffing and sobbing.
“Okay… the companion searched for some time before spotting Grudent’s body in a small dirt clearing. According to him, Grudent had managed to kill about a third of their forces before losing his own life. He became nervous and fled back to base. No one saw him, or so he claims.”
A whine sounded near the entrance. “Coward!” Merahn had lost control of her emotions. “Thanks to him, Grudent is gone. Now those savages get to live another day! It’s not fair!” she repeatedly beat her foreleg into the ground.
Lothar closed his eyes in disapproval. “Merahn, your behavior is that of a small child. Please, behave yourself.”
“No, you don’t get it! Grudent was my friend, he was the one that understood me, I shouldn’t have lost him… I should have been there with him, I wouldn’t have let those swine slip through my claws, I would have killed them all! Eaten them alive if needed be!”
“Merahn, what is the matter with you? This isn’t how you should view human beings, you know this,” Novekk said, his muscles still tensed. The other commanders joined along with him, all rebuking Merahn’s sudden outburst. They all were disturbed by her attitude; to eat a human was considered to be one of the most reprehensible things a dragon could do. The commanders reminded her of this, but she had none of it.
“You pigs! They killed one of our own, and you’re letting them GO!!! I HATE YOU ALL!” Merahn jumped off the ground, and dashed out of the Operations Chamber.
“Merahn, wait!” Lothar tried to stop her, but it was no use. She stormed off back to her lair, her sobs faintly audible in the chamber still. “Hmm. I will have to attend to this matter later. Now then, Raghes, is there anything you wish to add?”
“Well, what more is there to say, that I haven’t warned you all many times already? This is the arrogance I talked about. Grudent charged blind into a column of mercenaries even though he wasn’t supposed to, and got himself killed in the process. If this isn’t a sign that we must change our outlook, then what is?”
“What can we do to change, Raghes?” said a red-scaled dragoness. “I agree there’s an issue with attitude at play, but how do we resolve it?”
Raghes sighed. “Let’s start by viewing our enemy as human beings. Even though their crimes against Draconism and Divinity are monstrous, they are still human. You heard that outburst, right? If one of our commanders openly admits that she has no issue with eating humans like a bloodthirsty savage, then how do our regular troops view the enemy? I think we’ve forgotten why we took on these forms to begin with! We’re not out to hurt humanity, quite the opposite!”
“Most certainly, commander,” Lothar grunted with a nod. “That is a very disturbing development. It would appear that some amongst our holy league have given in to bloodlust. That must be called out and shouted down whenever it rears its ugly head.”
“Thank you, lord. I’m glad you see it that way,” Raghes said. He was relieved to hear that, the expression on his snout made that clear. The corners of Lothar’s mouth curled into a slight smile. I should have known better, Raghes.
“Now then, does anyone else have something they wish to add?” Lothar asked. The other dragons either said no, or shook their heads. “Then I consider this meeting to be over. Please, get back to your duties, I will give an address on this matter tomorrow.”
The Operations Chamber emptied, the smells of those gathered still lingering in the air. Lothar was all by himself now. This war is starting to take its toll at last… it was to be expected, but here it is. He paced around the empty chamber for some time, pondering. Draconism had survived worse. Still, losing an entire resistance group, and one of his commanders was a bitter blow. He contemplated his next move. Raghes is right, the people are afraid of us… If we put up a prettier face and clean up our act, perhaps then we wouldn’t be so feared. Speaking of Raghes, that lead he mentioned… what is it?
Lothar’s ear fins perked up. They picked up Novekk’s voice, and feminine sobs. “...It’s okay, Merahn. Do you want a hug?...”
I should go tend to her. Her grief might just be getting worse. Lothar emerged out of the chamber. Merahn’s lair wasn’t far away; a short walk rightwards and he’d be there. The tunnel leading there wasn’t large enough to fully support Lothar, however; his size forced him to choose between keeping his head low, or scraping his horns against the ceiling. Lothar lowered his head, grumbling to himself with his tail dragging over the ground. At least his magnificent horns would retain their beauty.
“Merahn, we care about you, trust me. You can’t say things like that about mankind, you know it is not right.”
“You know what else isn’t right? Losing my best friend.”
“I know, but...”
“No, you don’t know! If your friend was murdered, then we’ll see how you’ll react. You’ll wish for death just as much as I’m doing!”
Lothar rounded the corner into the lair. His nostrils filled up with the scent of fire, incense, Novekk, Merahn, and her tears. The grey dragoness was slumped over her nest, her limbs stretched behind her in an improper resting position. Her eyes were bloodshot: Red crackles ran over the purple towards the slitted pupils firmly resting in the middle. Her cheeks shone in the torchlight, and her jaw hung half open. Next to her sat Novekk, stroking her back with a foreleg. By chance, the black dragon’s natural red eyes caught wind of Lothar standing in the entrance.
“Oh, Lord Lothar! I didn’t see you there,” Novekk said.
Lothar nodded at him with an authoritative rumble. “Please, Novekk. Allow me to handle this matter. You ought to spend your time with the ill fortuned.”
“Ah yes, that is true. I’m hoping that injured human we’ve captured won’t be so fearful when I come back,” Novekk said. He passed by Lothar, and left the lair, his tail swishing joyously back and forth.
“Lothar… what do you want from me?” asked Merahn. She shifted her head away from the golden dragon, to the small box sitting in the corner of her lair. “Leave me alone.”
“Please, my lady. I do not wish for you to be so miserable. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Why, you can leave,” Merahn hissed. “Leave me here to sulk by myself.”
Merahn tucked her snout between her wings. She raised her paws from the ground, and squeezed them between her wings, likely to cover her eyes. Lothar did nothing; he sat upright, calmly breathing in and out of his nostrils, occasionally pretending to brush something off of his marvelous golden scales. Patience was the greatest antidote for moodiness, something he had learned all too well over the years.
A few minutes passed, and Merahn now groaned every so often. Oh, you silly grey-born. I do not fear so easily. Lothar audibly grinned to himself. He tilted his head back, and basked in the scent of anger that gradually strengthened with time. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why won’t you just go away? Can’t you leave me be?” she said, finishing off with a loud whine.
“Tell me, what is it about the loss of Grudent that ails you so?” Lothar asked.
The wings on Merahn’s back snapped back to the resting position. Her head whipped around; her purple eyes blazed. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. I loved Grudent like I loved my late husband. I’ve known him for years, and he was always there for me. He understood me, he took care of me like a true friend would. It was tough love at times, sure, but he always knew when he was in the wrong. I wanted to raise hatchlings with him, and now he’s no longer here, dead thanks to a COWARD!” her head sank back to the floor, tears streaming from her eyes.
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Lothar tapped Merahn on her shoulder. “Yes, I understand this. But you must understand that it wasn’t a case of betrayal that did him in. It was his volatility. If you were there on his final mission with him, you would have been dead as well.”
Merahn shook her head, rustling the straws in her nest. “Have you been talking to Raghes again?”
“Well, no, but-”
“He’s wrong! If there were no imperial monsters running around destroying Lokahn, he wouldn’t be dead! We should be slaughtering them all, not cosying up to them! How can you look at what happened to the Triumph, and say they don’t deserve it? HOW?”
Merahn heaved for breath, staring the golden dragon right into his amber eyes. Exhausted, unable to put up more of a fight, as if she were a cornered animal desperately attempting to chase off her prey with whines for mercy. Poor thing. Lothar sank down on his belly, directly against her. He draped a wing over her body, and shuffled a paw over her foreleg. “It’s okay,” he whispered into her ear fins.
“No, it’s not okay.” Merahn shook her head, nudging it further from Lothar.
“Then it will become okay, eventually. Everything does.”
“I don’t get it, Lothar. Why does everyone want to be peaceful and kind to the enemy?” She dragged her head over both of her forelegs, her tail pressed against the other side of her body. “They want us dead, they want to take our land for their own...”
Lothar softly nuzzled her on the cheeks. “Because in the end, even though you find it difficult to believe, they are still human. Misguided, and blinded perhaps, but humans nevertheless. We can’t surrender to our own anger, and kill them for our own pleasures.”
“Why...” Merahn softly muttered.
“Allow me to explain.” Lothar cozied up further against Merahn, in part to cheer her up better, but also for his own comfort; the harsh ground pressed against his scales as if it were a cold branding iron. “It has been eight years since Lokahn was last free. All those years, the imperials have washed and rinsed the minds of the populace. That dragons are monsters, creatures of evil, that they won’t hesitate to set alight whole villages. Every action of brutality, every strike on civilian targets we do… it gives it strength.”
Merahn tried to hiss, but all she managed was a rasped breath. “No, you’re wrong...”
“It is the truth. The truth that all those who still believe in Draconism have relayed back to us. Our families, our friends, our neighbours, those who we have left behind in this struggle to take back what is ours by right, our anger succeeds in making them fear us.”
“T-they’ll see-”
“No, they will not. Imagine for a moment. Your own son, your very flesh and blood whose voice you desperately cry out at night for.” Lothar glanced away from Merahn, straight into her shrine. “Imagine him buying into the lies, imagine him wanting to fight against us with the belief his way of life is under attack. Then, picture him marching in one of those columns, staring frozen in horror at the sky as you are about to incinerate them all-”
Another whine cut Lothar off. “You lie! My son would never, my entire family would never stab us in the back. No true blooded Lokahnian ever would.” The grey dragoness backed away to the edges of the nest. “Leave me alone.” Lothar shook his head, and softly clicked his tongue. When will she ever learn the errors of her ways? He got off the nest, and left the lair.
* * *
Verdant flowers and ferns were arrayed around the edges of the Medical Bay. Torches lined the walls above, casting their nurturing light upon the plants and the patients resting on their nests. In the back of the room, some distance removed from the wall, various medical equipment lay well organised on a stack of wooden planks: a mortar and pestle, plant matter, bandages, potion glasses, and various other items. As Lothar stepped forth into the room, the patients raised their heads at their visitor.
“Oh, Lord Lothar! A pleasure to meet you!” said a brown-scaled dragon, whose hind leg was partly wrapped up in a bandage. The others were also happy, and had their own warm greetings for their leader. Lothar smiled.
“A pleasure to meet you all as well. I wish you a speedy recovery,” Lothar said. “Now then, does anyone know where the doctor is, hmm?” he calmly breathed in and out of his nose.
“I believe he’s in the special room, tending to that human. It is to your right, my lord.”
“Thank you, brother.”
Lothar went past an artificial pond filled with clean drinking water, as well as the bay for the sick. There were two dragons here, both asleep on their nests with snot bubbling out of their nostrils. The room was warm, yet the air was fresh and pure. An everburning fire crackled in the middle, a small brick barrier arrayed between it and the dragons to protect them from accidental tail burnings. Lothar left them to their rest, and headed for the room next door. Already the scent of a human filled his nostrils. His ear fins flicked up.
“Here… this will make you feel better.”
“h-help!...behind you...”
Novekk glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. That is just our beloved leader. Just a moment.” He put the wooden bowl he held in his claws on a small stand. “Why hello there, Lothar!” he said, baring his teeth and red eyes happily in a grin.
“Greetings, doctor Novekk. How is the human doing?”
“Oh, he is still sickly. But I’m happy to say he’s likely to recover,” Novekk said. The human patient squirmed uncomfortably in the blankets he was wrapped in, staring frightfully at his giant golden visitor. Lothar gave a warm smile in return.
“He appears rather afraid still.”
“Oh, that has improved too. The first time we met each other, he screamed until he passed out. He was still so weak then, and I tried to get him to calm down, but he wouldn’t listen. It was horrible.”
“I’m surprised he even had the energy, given how nasty his frostbite was. The Origin Mountains showed no mercy to him.” The human shook nervously and wrapped himself tighter in his blanket, his eyes still wide open. He opened his mouth, and out flew a sneeze.
“Indeed. Such a poor soul, good thing he’s with us now. Anyway, I need to administer the cold mixture, if you don’t mind,” Novekk said, as he took the wooden bowl back into his claws. A soupy liquid was within it.
“No problem, Novekk,” Lothar replied. “Divinity bless you.” Now where could Raghes be?
* * *
The fiery crown of the skies had taken its rightful place at the azure’s helm, casting its light upon the valleys and peaks of the Origin Mountains. Raghes sat perched at the entrance of the Draconist base, watching over the evergreens and lakes below. Even though this perch was meant to be kept free for those leaving and arriving, Raghes didn’t care. He sat, lost in a self-imposed solitude. Down below, the trees carried the whispers of the wind.
Alas, all solitude comes to an end. As the sun crossed its zenith, Lothar came panting from behind. “There you are, Raghes. I have been looking for you.” So he can unwind away from the baths, I didn’t know that. Interesting.
Raghes grunted, acknowledging Lothar’s presence without glancing over his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking, my lord.”
Lothar tilted his head. “About what?” he asked, taking in a breath as if he were sipping from a wine glass.
“About the past, I mean. Before any of this. It’s just been bothering me.”
“What ails you, Raghes?” Lothar perched himself on the edge, and tapped his shoulder. The blue dragon glanced up at him, his ear fins raised. “You know that I will always teach you, if you wish.”
“I never believed I would say this, but… there was something Merahn said that really got me thinking.”
“And that is?” Lothar lowered his foreleg to the edge of the cliff, careful to not tap a plant growing on the edge with his talon.
“Well, she went on one of her usual rants about the superiority of Dragonkind, and how all humans ought to become dragons. I don’t know why now of all times, but it made me think of the past. Times long before we were even born, I mean.”
“Why?” Lothar bit at his chops. Please do not tell me she convinced you, especially now of all times, Raghes. I thought of you as immune to the allure of bloodlust.
“I wonder… why did the dragons of old choose to not reproduce, and raise a new generation of dragons? They were capable of doing so, as are we. The blessing could still be given to those willing to accept it, why didn’t they?”
Lothar’s throat rumbled. No, not even Raghes could resist it. “Raghes, you know full well why. Have you too gone mad for power?”
Raghes winced. “No, I didn’t mean that at all. This isn’t about a desire for conquest and power like Merahn always wishes for, this is about our home. If they had raised hatchlings into a new generation, would Lokahn ever have been conquered and enslaved as it has been now? The kingdom’s armies would have had a good chance of saving the country from imperial domination, but…”
Wind rustled in the cliffside plants. An uneasy feeling bubbled in Lothar’s stomach. “I had always presumed their choice to not raise hatchlings out of fear they would lose their touch with mankind,,” Lothar said. “Worse, maybe. Perhaps those hatchlings would see themselves as superior to those they were meant to nurture, and ignore their pleas. They might have even become those who wished to enslave them. Or so I have read, at least.”
“But… look at Lokahn now. The generations hadn’t been born, and the land is suffering regardless. I do not want to see the future generations suffer. I want not just to liberate my home, but to preserve it for all future generations. Am I wrong in thinking that?”
Lothar opened his jaws, and searched for a rebuttal. There was no rebuttal. He is right. The fatherland can’t suffer like this ever again. “...No. No. You are not.”
Raghes nodded. “Thank you, my lord. I’m glad you see it that way. Man and dragon can live together, I can feel it in my bones.”
The pain in Lothar’s belly now flowed through his veins. He backed away from the ledge, fearing he might fall by accident. He could have easily saved himself should it have happened, something he realised with a flutter of his wings, but the illness had made him believe otherwise. Lothar covered his jaws up with a foreleg; the deer he had for breakfast stirred in his stomach.
“My lord? Is something wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Raghes grunted and paused. “I wonder, actually. Why have you been looking for me, Lord?”
“Oh yes, that’s right!” Lothar laughed in an exaggerated manner to brush off any suspicion Raghes might have had. Judging by the expression on his snout, it was painfully evident as a bluff. “I had been looking for you, how silly of me.”
“Well… what for?”
“You said those survivors had a lead to chase down, is that true?” Lothar asked. Raghes nodded. “Good, good. May I ask what that lead is?
“Um, just a moment, let me think.” Lothar’s nerves were plain as day, from the shaking of his tongue, to the air hissing as he sucked it in through his teeth; Raghes had caught onto something being amiss. Lothar hoped he wouldn’t pursue the matter further, to which fortune granted his wish. “I believe they had an idea as to where one of the mercs lived. They want to punish him for his treachery before heading towards safety.”
Lothar swallowed saliva. “May I ask where… where that might be?” With every word, his limbs quaked. The air itself choked his lungs and throat. Don’t tell me, don’t tell me....! He leaned to the cliff. Raghes licked his lips, and stared off in the distance for a moment before his attention returned.
“I think it was a small village on the river Kalde. I’m not sure, but apparently they were pretty confident in that-”
Without warning, Lothar dove off the edge, and furiously beat his wings as fast as he could. “L-l-lord Lothar, wait!” shouted Raghes, but it was no use. The golden dragon was already shrinking on the horizon, travelling with speeds Raghes never thought possible.