Chapter 16

“Oh gods, no…”

Victor’s head ached as the smoke arose on the horizon. In an act of desperation, he slapped himself across the face, hoping that the mirage would disperse. But, as the light scent of ash confirmed, it wasn’t a mirage. It can’t be the guard tower again. Not after it’s previous thrashing. His breathing intensified, and turned into panting as his legs blasted off. It was as if he were floating.

The wind swept over the path, cutting into him as if it were a gale of knives. Despite the fierce resistance, Victor’s legs sped up further. Adrenaline pumped through his veins; his heart beated at mouselike speeds, sending shockwaves through his veins. Panic clouded his mind, every step forwards seemed to harshen the pressure upon his skull.

“Not again… not again!!”

All events leading up to this nightmare consumed the depths of his soul. There was no denying it; the dragons are finishing what they started. His greatest fear had been made reality. The local garrison had been abandoned ever since the first attack, leaving the residents of Riverside completely unprotected. He pictured it in his mind. People he had known for years, desperately trying to protect their homes and families with weary farm equipment against fire breathing behemoths.

After running the remainder of the road with the speed of a runaway arrow, the town emerged from behind the trees. Plumes arose all across from buildings reduced to their skeletons, charred wood and household items scattered about, crackling faintly. Victor screeched to a halt in a patch of trashed cropland, and stared wide eyed at the destruction. The dead residents lay strewn over the area. They lay lonely on the roads and fields, struck down with their faces buried in grass, dirt, or gravel. Ash and blood haunted the air. Everywhere, there was devastation. And that meant…

M-mother...Charlotte!!

His windpipe slammed shut. Every breath was torturous, every step was a needle piercing his legs. He ran and ran, praying for a miracle to have saved his mother and sister. They couldn't be dead. His mother wasn’t even fifty years old, his sister had yet to cross the age of ten, they were far too young to die.

But no matter how cruel it was, no matter how unfair fate’s decisions were, the truth was solid steel, and no amount of pretending would ever change it. There, where once stood the house of the Miller family, was another skeleton. Anything made out of wood and straw had been eaten away by fire. The upper floor was gone; whatever possessions he had back home no longer existed. Tears trickled out of Victor’s eyes, and rolled down his cheeks as he ran into the skeleton.

Debris had taken over the floor. Chunks of stone, kitchen utensils, pots, pans, and various other household items lay scattered on top of one another. Victor fell to his knees and dug through the mess, tossing everything behind his back and staining his hands with ash. His heart pulsated between his ribs. All he wanted was to hear a groan. Or see something move. Any sign that his mother and sister still lived. He searched in the kitchen, in the small storage space, in the living room, they were nowhere to be found.

Victor bit his lip, and rose off the ground, when something glinted in the corner of his eye.It was the warm reflection of the sunlight shining upon the Kalde, running next to the remnants of the family farm. The crops had been yanked out of the ground, and the shed had been torn apart. Victor stepped over the wall to the farm, leaving a black streak on his trousers. As he raised his forearm to wipe sweat off his brow, something in the fields caught his attention. In the back lay a body wrapped in a white garment.

“No… No...” he raised his hands to the sides of his head. Don’t let that be what I think it is…!

His spine froze over. The dirt crunched underneath his feet, as he timidly stepped towards the body. Already his eyes were heavy in their sockets. From the brown hair, to the garment, deep down he already knew. But it wasn’t meant to be. It wasn’t. The waters of the Kalde calmly splashed in the background; the fish lived their lives as usual.

Upon reaching the body, Victor’s knees buckled into the red dirt. An irony scent hung above the corpse; it was still fresh. He bit his lip, as his hands glided and gripped the body. Water freed itself from his eyes. He breathed in, and out, bracing for the absolute worst. One… two… three. He closed his eyes, and rolled the body over. “Dontdontdontdont...” he muttered to himself. His eyes flew open, and staring back at him was the lifeless face of his mother.

In an instant, the dams cracked and broke, sending a flood of tears onto the pale face of Elizabeth as Victor screamed at the top of his lungs. He violently shook his mother’s body, pleading and crying for her to wake up. The world spun all around him; everything disintegrated into nothingness. Everything turned blurry, as his eyelids were engulfed by tears.He kept shaking and prodding and stroking his mother’s pale cheeks, but there was nothing to be done. His mother, the person he loved the most, the person who was always there for him, was gone.

Victor’s head sank downwards to the lowest point he could muster. His entire body ached as if it was being crushed into tiny little pieces. A gust of ash smeared its foulness upon his mouth, and his wet cheeks. He kept stroking his mother’s cheek. I’m sorry mom… I wanted to come back to you… Grief and guilt had overwhelmed him. He could have prevented all this. He could have died with them. If only he had ran back yesterday. He didn’t deserve to survive over his mother, nor over his sister who was nowhere to be seen.

“THERE HE IS!”

A yell echoed over the crackling town, coming from the direction of the former guard tower. Victor’s head shot back up, tears still streaming down his face. A man stood at the edge of the forest by the treeline, his finger stretched out in Victor’s direction. Behind him was his entourage brandishing their weapons.

“GET HIM!!”

With the aid of a strong tailwind, the men charged straight at Victor, who stared on in horror. Panic took over, as he jumped off the ground and sprinted for the forest opposite of the attackers. It was certain enough that there was no available paths, but to die or escape. Victor sped off into the brush, the thick foliage brushing against his legs. Chased by those who slaughtered the village. Highwaymen. Draconists.

But that man, the one barking orders behind his back still, there was an air about him that Victor didn’t understand. His voice resonated with hatred, with bloodlust, but for what? Why did he, his family, and his neighbours deserve to be put to the sword? Then it clicked. He had seen this man before.

* * *

The skies over Lokahn were harsher than usual today. Heavy, cold winds kept up their neverending barrage upon Lothar as he sped eastwards. His mighty wings held to a steady beat, fighting as best they could against the cold squalls holding the skies in their grasp. He anxiously breathed in and out, eyes wide and forward to his goal. Normally he would have indulged in the liberty of the skies, but not now. There was nothing to enjoy at this time.

Divinity, please let my family be alright… I will never forgive myself…!

Lothar had been on edge ever since he learned what the remainder of the Triumph’s resistance had planned, his panic growing worse by the second. His family was there. The wife he fell in love with, the children they raised together, the family he left behind for a greater cause and better future, they were there. His throat made short rumbling noises, and his blood bubbled. A voice echoed in his mind; he had to check up on them, he had to.

The golden dragon dove under the cloudlayer, his tail on an even plane with his body. His amber eyes spotted the Kalde in an instant, and he straightened himself above the river. He was all by himself,. No one was to follow him on his mission. No one could learn about his secret, the lone thing that kept him awake at night, weeping to himself. Raghes went in pursuit after him for some time, but had given up by now. He knew full well from experience the levels of stubbornness Lothar could reach.

Eventually, after hours of flying over small hamlets and endless expanses of forest, weak grey plumes emerged on the left bank. Lothar groundedto a halt as the village came into full view, his tail falling towards the ground. His eyes lit up with horror; his family’s village had been set ablaze.

Oh no… NO!!!

Lothar ungracefully dropped himself into the center of village. A cloud of polluted air filled his lungs, which he coughed and hacked out, the taste of molten ash resting upon his tongue.. At his claws lay the dead residents of the village. Most had been hacked to pieces by swords. Loud, animalistic breathing noises filled his ear fins. It took some time to realise it was himself gasping for air.

He shook his head to clear his mind, and sniffed the air, hoping to catch the scent of his family. There was no trace of anything but burning wood and the scent of death. His heart thumping against his chest plates, he rummaged through the devastated buildings. Stone, wood, household items, bodies, his family was nowhere in sight. He kept his nostrils open, and his eyes sharp, hoping to spot his family cowering in terror somewhere.. Yes, find them hiding somewhere, then grab them with his claws and take them back to the base. Living in regular society was too dangerous for them now. The imperials had likely discovered their true lineage, and sent in their thugs to slaughter them in cold blood.

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He searched and searched, tearing apart the ravaged village to the foundations. With half the village gone, it finally fell in his eyesight. In a field by the Kalde, next to a house he hadn’t gotten to yet, lay a body on its back, the face staring emptily into the azure skies above. That face, those features… for a moment, his body was a glacier. Then, it hit him.

“ELIZABETH, NOOO!”

The dragon roared out loud enough for it to echo into the forest, as he made a dash for the body. He grabbed the body of his wife with a foreclaw. and sank on the ground, his tail curled around his body. His eyes squeezed shut as they welled up with his grief. He had failed.

My love, my darling angel… I’m so sorry…

He rolled onto his side while holding his dead wife with both claws, the ridges on his tail now touching the dirt. Elizabeth had changed so little from eight years ago. Even in death; she was still every bit as kind, beautiful, and lovely as the woman she once was. Loud sobbing filled the air. He made a promise to her, that he would return one day, that he would still watch over her and the kids. He had let her down. With the back of a talon, he stroked his wife’s body as he held it against his chest. It all had gotten far too real. Her smell mixed with that of blood and steel, her already cooling body, the tears put in no effort to flow out of his eyes.

Then, a new smell crept into his nostrils. One he hadn’t smelled in eight years, yet still felt so familiar all this time later. He threw himself off the ground, dug a small grave into the field, and marked it with a fence post before laying his wife to rest within.The familiar smell strengthened considerably when Elizabeth had been buried; he traced a line into the brushes west of the town. His wings arose by themselves from their resting position. Eight years ago, on that fateful night, he had made another promise.

Son…!

* * *

“Huff...huff...huff...”

Victor’s feet screamed out in exhaustion, begging for a momentary rest. But there was to be no rest, not if Victor wanted to survive. He had spent hours going over hills and through thorns, the thugs not far behind on his heels. They just wouldn’t give up: still their yells echoed behind, no matter how far from Riverside they had gotten by now. He kept running as best as he could. His sword and backback were still slung over his back, and the amulet still dangling around his neck. Though they weighed him down, he wasn’t throwing them away. Not a chance he’d survive in the wilderness without them.

Every step got harder and harder. His legs were like wooden logs in a lumber mill waiting to be sawn apart. Half an hour ago a shadow passed overhead, accompanied by the beating of wings. The dragon cult wasn’t letting their prey slip between their talons. Yet he had to live. For his mother, for his missing father, for little Charlotte. What would they think if he werecaught? They’d be devastated. No, death wasn’t an option. But his legs begged for it at this point. The terrain kept getting rougher and rougher, and his body could only do so much.

In the afternoon, black clouds emerged out of nowhere and darkened the skies. The first drops of rain fell into the woods soon after. Victor had reached his limit. He pushed onwards past more countless patches of forest, and found himself staring straight into a small hole inside of a large hill. A dead end.

“No, nono, not like this.”

He tried to run rightwards, but the thorns and plantlife there were far too thick. Off to the left however, was a wide stretch of cleared land along the base of the hill.

“AUGH!”

But he was too late. One of his legs burned, forcing him to the ground. He groaned as he crawled into the cave with what little strength he had left. After throwing himself upon the rocks, he spotted the arrow that had pierced his left leg. The tip was coated with his blood, dripping down onto his ankles. The slightest movement made him yelp out in pain. Trees rustled violently in the distance.

“Good shot, Rev. Good spellcasting, Mel.”

Out of the woods emerged five men, and one woman. Sticks and branches crunched under their boots, as they calmly formed a half circle around the tiny cave. None of them panted, or sweated even a little; they would have kept the chase going for another three hours if needed. They grinned and high fived one another over a successful catch. Their target lay crumpled on a rugged brown cave floor, and they were free to do as they please.

The lone man not brandishing a weapon stepped up to where Victor squirmed on the rocks. He leaned forwards, hands leaning against his knees“Why hello there, traitor,” he said in an obnoxiously smug voice. “Name’s Lyndrer, how are you?”

Lyndrer, huh? Might as well entertain myself before these whoresons gut me. Victor bent his neck towards the man, hoping to avoid any extra strain on his leg. “Lyndrer? The abyss kind of name is that? Were your parents a little slow in the head?”

The men in the back struggled to contain their laughter. Lyndrer spit at Victor’s feet. “Of course traitors like you wouldn’t understand such a name. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to familiarize yourself with one of the legendary draconic defenders of our beloved kingdom, when he’ll be devouring you in the afterlife.”

Victor spat back at Lyndrer’s face. “Scumbag, you aren’t calling the shots in the world beyond, are you?”

A smile crept onto Lyndrer’s face. “My, my, my. That is only common sense, given what you’ve done.”

“And that is?”

“Allying yourself with the tyrants committing genocide against our kin, and murdering freedom fighters...” Lyndrer’s smile faded; in its place appeared a stare of absolute hatred. Victor gulped. “Listen, you filthy little rat, you and your treasonous neighbours helped destroy Draconism in the Ravens Hill province. Don’t you dare deny it! But that’s not all, no. You joined a little band of mercenaries and sold your soul for money, then you happily murdered my brothers. Like animals. Slaughtered for loving their country and religion, for wanting a future free of this tyranny… you beast!”

Victor rolled onto his back, and hissed as the arrow burrowed further into his leg. “Beast? me? I’m not the one worshipping beasts here, you-”

“SILENCE!”

The echoes of Lyndrer’s yell echoed. Victor fell silent. The calm drizzle rapidly developed into a strong downpour. The men stood their ground, basking in the rain as it flowed over their weary faces.

“How DARE you call the Children of Divinity beasts! One dragon scale is more honorable than your entire family, you dog!” Lyndrer shook his head. “But no matter. Soon, we’ll have the whole country liberated. After we’re done cutting you up, we’re going to receive the blessing of dragonhood ourselves. Like the past generations have done, we will free this country and wipe out the invaders, just like the past generations have done! How does it feel, rat? Your little empire is crumbling, and you can’t do a thing about it.”

“You monsters...” Victor said, gritting his teeth. “You’re not getting away with this, I swear. You’ve gone after just about anyone not a part of this whole mess, robbing them, murdering them, whatever you felt like doing that day. You’re the reason I and my friends even picked up a sword. I just want to live in peace, and you dragon worshipping savages come to kill me, and my friends, and my family.” He hacked up saliva from his throat, and spat it towards Lyndrer’s face. “I hope you rot in the abyss.”

“How cute. Men, let’s kill this scumbag already, I’ve heard enough-”

A monstrous roar thundered in the skies, bending the trees backwards and sending birds into a flight for their lives. The men staggered away from the woods, their weapons clattering on the floor as they covered up their ears. Victor’s bones rattled under his skin: a sensation he was all too familiar with. The rain continued its heavy descent, as thumping sounds grew louder and louder on the path the men had come from. In the distance, the trees fell sidewards as something massive pushed them aside.

With a guttural growl, a gigantic dragon burst forth from the trees. His brilliant golden scales and light brown chest plates were soaked with rain water. The beast’s bright amber eyes locked with Victor’s, and widened. This behemoth dwarfed the dragon from two days earlier: His teeth were sharper, his horns grander, the ridges on his back more pronounced. Victor shivered on the floor, contemplating his fate. There would be no one to save him this time around.

“L-lord Lothar! It’s an honor to meet you!” said Lyndrer, his voice shaking with excitement. The men appeared relieved, given their slouched shoulders and easygoing facial expressions. How happy they must be, that their leader had come for them. Perhaps they would let him do the dirty work. Victor’s muscles glaciated at the thought. “We were just about to cut up this scumbag when you showed up. If you want to kill him, feel free-”

The dragon roared out in anger, baring his maw for the world to see. Victor cringed, and tried to curl into a ball only to yelp out in pain. The dragon’s ear fins flicked upwards. Upon seeing the arrow jutting out of Victor’s leg, he spread his wings wide, and his eyes burned with a bestial rage that once again made Victor yelp from another attempt to crawl for his life.

“M-my lord, what is wrong?” said one of the men, visibly shaking. In the blink of an eye, the dragon raised his claw, and swiped it down at that man. The talons sliced into the man’s chest like a sickle through wheat. With a scream, he crumpled to the floor. The dragon lowered his reddened claw; his eyes already had gotten a hold of his next target: The woman shaking with her staff in hand.

“What the…?! My lord, what is the meaning of- AAAUGH!”

Before the poor soul knew it, the dragon slashed her belly open, and she too fell to pieces. The dragon brought himself into a frenzy, and grew crueler with his monstrous rampage. He whipped one of the men behind them with its tail, who flew headfirst into the hillside. Then he grabbed a man cowering behind a tree with his claw, and squeezed as hard as he could.

Victor’s spine and blood froze as the cracks of the victim’s bones breaking reached his ears. The men screamed and cried as the dragon gutted them like cattle, a morbid preview to Victor’s own death. Nothing haunted and terrified him more than knowing that these men were his allies. He weakly punched his chest, desperate for a less cruel death. Victor, die, die please… you don’t want to be eaten alive… a lone tear trickled out of his right eye.

The dragon grabbed the last two living members of the band, his rage and bloodlust anything but stilled. Lyndrer desperately wailed and pleaded with him to stop, but the dragon didn’t listen. He dropped the other survivor on a patch of hard dirt, formed his claw into a fist, and proceeded to mash him into a bloody pulp. Little remained of him by the time he was done.

With a rumble in his throat, the golden dragon turned his attention to Lyndrer, who had become a wreck of tears. The creature he worshipped and trusted had turned traitor. The dragon’s eyes widened, and tightened his grip on the human trying to worm out of his claws, to no avail. He swallowed in a deep breath of air, and unleashed a deafening roar in his victim’s face. Lyndrer screamed in terror, as the dragon widened his jaws and moved his claw closer…

With a weak whine, Victor squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t watch any longer. His body grew weaker and weaker, leaving him unable to cover his ears. Lyndrer’s screams of bloody murder grew muffled, and eventually ceased. His heart yelled out in pain, and his body shut down. Now, the stress and fear gave way to relief. At least he wouldn’t be conscious as he died. Before passing out, he felt the dragon breathe down his neck.

“...Son, are you okay?...”