"This week's festivities will be catered by the finest Abdera has to offer, my liege." A woman held the room, clothed in fine white linens and with a smattering of flour on her cheeks. "Roast ducks, hens, hogs, and the finest pastries. I give you my oath to the utmost quality of my and my men's work. Today, I have brought you a sampling of our craft so as to aid in your deliberation."
Her lips formed the words, but she spoke with her arms, waving them vivaciously at the grandiose assortment she had prepared. There was a large round table seated in a larger chamber, sat at which were platters of cakes, wines, and meats, along with the Duke's trusted council of advisors. "I assure you everything will be just as spectacular for milord's coronation feast. All food and drink are in our capable hands."
Even before her say-so, hands spilled out from behind the table, loading their plates with a smorgasbord of the very best on offer. The same hands quickly transferred from plate to face, filling both their mouths and the room with audible gasps as they sucked down the sweets. The young woman's captivating air lingered while she surveyed the happy audience, searching for any foul expressions until she found mine. Her lofty smile dropped with her hands, and all of her onlookers turned in unison to see who had brought rain to this cheerful gathering. They swallowed what was left in their mouths, but none of them took another bite.
It stung the way they looked at me, but as a frequent deliverer of bad news, I was accustomed to their empty glares. Old men, the lot of them, bygone and brittle as the baked goods stuffing their cheeks. I didn’t know each of them by name or what hollow role they filled here, but what did it matter to me? Even along my fast track, their type rarely had the need to consort with mine. They'd outlived their late lord, and our new one would surely see to it that they outlived me too.
"Notice was sent of my arrival?" I stammered, having intruded upon their dire assembly. When my words didn't register on their dull faces, I ignored them and walked to the foot of the table. "Lord Eisendale, I've returned from my latest reconnaissance." I addressed him formally yet loudly so as to demand attention.
Lined in blue silk and cloth of gold, he was easy to find. Unlike the others, the Duke stood at the far side of the room, head turned to his feasting forum as he peered out one of the stained-glass windows. He angled his bare chin ever so, showing his profile in the green and red light. "Reconnaissance, yes. From Crodmill, correct?"
“That’s correct, milord,” I said over the table. Even after announcing myself, many from the crowd returned to their meals.
"I apologize Mister...Arrowood, was it? I know it’s intrusive, but even such things as these need tending to. So what news do you bring me? What is the state of Crodmill."
“Fallen, just as Cornika and Thorwell before it. I surveyed the area for survivors, but there were none.”
"And your assessment then. Inconclusive, I take it?" he asked absently, more concerned with clouds over his kingdom than he was with the results of my mission. This was one of my first expeditions under the new lord’s order, so it was good to see I had already amassed favorable repute.
"On the contrary, milord, I have ascertained what caused the blaze."
My words straightened the backs of all who heard them including the Duke who swiveled on his feet and faced me square, fists pressed into the table as he leaned in. What the young Duke had in power, he hadn't in physical stature, standing many inches beneath me. By now, he was approaching middle-aged, with a thinner hairline and a thick belly hanging from his midsection. A few gray hairs had already sprouted from his round, slouching face. He certainly didn't look a new heir, but he had only reigned for a number of months since old man Gwynne had stubbornly passed on.
"What was it?" One of the council members blurted in question, for which he received grave looks from his peers and a stern reprimanding from his superior.
"Don't speak out of line, high bishop. I understand your intrigue, but we have a manner of doing things." His narrowed eyes flit from the bishop back to me. "Who then is to blame for this destruction, and what are the whereabouts of the cowardly organization? Tell me now so the dastards may be chained by the royal cavalry."
"It was no man, milord, but a beast."
"Beasts?" He said once, then twice to confirm his disbelief. "All that ruin, all that bloodshed, caused by some lowly beasts?" He shook his head shamefully and looked down at his knuckles. "Alright then, what were they? Orcs lack coordination, griffins don't hunt in packs, and any other manner of miscreant would have to attack in the thousands to level one of our villages. Tell me what the hell could obliterate three of our villages."
"Well, as in previous expeditions, I attempted to search for tracks left in the wreckage, but as it turned out, it never left." His eyes and all of his advisors' locked intently onto mine as he awaited the verdict. I swallowed. "A wyvern is to blame."
His casual demeanor slipped, eyes widening only briefly before returning to their half-slack neutral state. He'd reacted as though I'd just warned of evening showers. "Surely not, Kaiser. While a nuisance, aviants are of no great concern. Besides that, we haven't had a single confirmed sighting in the last decade. You must have seen a bird."
He was referring to what were commonly called avian wyverns, birdlike reptiles known to flock en masse during their migration. While far from harmless, without the ability to spark a flame, they were incapable of the catastrophe that'd swallowed our allied nations. More importantly, they were no larger than ravens.
"You misunderstand me, milord. Not several of them, but one the size of a hundred, like nothing I've ever seen. And fire—fire poured from its mouth like a lindworm, though it flew like a wyvern! It must be an undiscovered variant, one I was pleasantly unaware existed until now."
My harrowing account evoked a chill throughout the chamber, followed by the hushed gasp of everyone in the room. Everyone but him. The members of his cabinet appeared uneasy, drawn to the edge of their seats and awaiting their Duke's response to decide how they should react. I had expected him to follow suit, for my words to induce shock, but they were instead met with churlish laughter.
"Were these perchance the words of your aide?" He didn't allow me time enough to answer between his chortles, keeping on with that loathsome grin. "Poor sap must have missed his mother and concocted this story to drive you back home. Those blasted guards will stop at nothing to lighten their load!"
My brows furrowed. I expected a level of immaturity from the man, but it was no time for accusations of that nature. "I sighted the wyrm first hand, sir, felt the heat from its breath; it likely still lurks where we left it. If you need further proof, I could lead a small company of upper guardsmen to study it."
Each of the men before me stifled a grin and a chuckle as the Duke raised his arms to silence them. "Very well, then. I get it. You've been on the same missions for months now, and you've more than earned your rest. Lay your head, and I'll have a knight sent to scout Crodmill in your stead."
"With all due respect, sir, I didn't ask for rest. Furthermore, a situation like this demands a sizable troop to—"
"Enough, Kaiser," he interjected, "Your report has been noted."
I sat there dumbfounded at his blatant dismissal. Noted? The word echoed in my head, and out of nervous habit, my molars began to grind against one another.
With his sanction, I could fight another day. I could walk through that door and his royal travesty would be out of my hair for a time, but I knew I wouldn't sleep that night as long as the creature remained. "Please. Be reasonable, milord. Far-fetched though it may seem, I bring this information to you with one hundred percent certainty of its accuracy. Nothing else would suffice!"
"I told you that's enough! I don't want you inciting chaos over this lucid dream of yours." Upon seeing my slack-jawed expression, he tilted back his head and sighed. "You don't honestly expect me to take the word of one man as gospel, do you? Regarding a dragon, no less. This investigation is too crucial."
His flippancy was nothing new, but this was too much even for me to deal with. Every utterance of mine was deflected—twisted, tied, and covered in a layer of condescension before he spat it back in my face. He removed my restraints one by one, and I had few remaining. I raised my voice when next I spoke. "Having worked under your father, I've earned as much. At any rate, in what fantasy could these fires be spread by something less disastrous?"
The man of the hour had no immediate retort, but his underlings gasped and flocked to his side.
"Enough, lad! He's spoken."
"Go drink with the rest of the guards!"
Eisendale raised his hand, bringing everyone to attention. "I can believe the word of any I wish to. Whether or not you're included within those margins is none of my concern."
"None of your concern?" I repeated quietly and in a hollow tone. Whether it was his disrespect for my efforts, his incessant jeering, or the effect that the wyvern had on my mental state, I had completely crossed the boundary of restraint and reason. The voice of rage whispered in my ear, and I had no choice left but to accept the release it offered me. I took a tone I'd never before dared to wield.
"I've just brought word of a monster reaping our closest allies off the map, and you claim to have no stake in it? This city, your city, could be lain waste to, and you'd sooner chalk it up to an active imagination?"
He fumed with reddened face, "What fool do you take me for? Leading Abdera is not an escapade I embarked upon yesterday; I very well know how to handle the protection of my state."
"And how does that serve to explain your remiss?"
"Because if there were some fabled wyvern, why would yours be the first of the reports, and what would be gained from filling the streets with hysteric townsfolk? Why draw attention to a problem by making the wild assumption that there is one?" His tongue dripped with thick and haughty pretension as the words spewed from his mouth. It was a game to him, nothing more.
“You call it crucial, but how much longer will you wait? How many reports to confirm what I just told you? We need to arm ourselves now, or we’ll be toppled."
"Regardless of the truth, be it from land or sky, we've the most advanced military the world over; we're equipped to deal with any threat that should present itself."
"Crodmill was prepared," I said candidly. "How could a lord question the usefulness of keeping his people well-informed?"
"Humble yourself, Kaiser. You speak on a topic you know nothing of. You've made an embarrassment of me and of yourself. Leave now, and consider yourself dismissed of any further duties."
"And what do you know of leading a nation?" I snarled, a hot breath showering the table with venom. "You wear your father's borrowed crown, and with the way you speak of your 'allies', you'll never demand the same respect."
The frail chancellor rose from his velvet-lined seat. "Watch your tongue, boy. A herald has no right to speak to his majesty in such a manner!" he said with a weakly pounded fist.
That was it. Whatever I had left of my composure was viciously snapped, like a twig beneath his gold-embroidered boots;
I succumbed to the amalgam of fear and frustration churning within and tore my sword of its scabbard. It stared the mewling man between his eyes while I seethed. "I'm not a damn herald. I'm a knight, first in line to join the royal garrison! I've shed more blood for this kingdom than any one of you, and this is what I get for my loyalty? A deaf ear and a blind eye?"
The Duke drew a blithe breath. "And so the wolf bares his little fangs. Was it worth it? Losing your life for?" I didn't stand down. "Very well. Henceforth, you'll be regarded as no more than a common criminal within the confines of my kingdom. Bawl as you like, but the day won't weep for someone so—" He paused. "Dispensable."
"You dare refer to me as such?! I've been informant to the crown since before it sat on your head! You live a life of luxury while I risk mine, only to be made a fool of by the king of them." I turned my focus to the gawking masks that encircled me. "And the rest of you—How do you sit idly by as he threatens to spend your lives like chess pieces? He'll sooner see you burned to dust than lift his fat-ringed finger to do something about it!"
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Judging by the looks of the council, along with the tentative grasp of their chair seats, my plea was ill-received—disregarded as a madman's. It was pointless; their hands covered their eyes, and years of dust filled their ears such that the Duke's words were all they could hear. I, on the other, could keenly hear them coming for me—the vibration of metal footsteps growing louder with every waking moment. I couldn't let them take me away. It'd been too far a journey to end it here. Countless years put towards this kingdom's betterment, and I wouldn't let them be for naught. At the creak of the door, I turned without thought, pivoting into a thrust.
The unsuspecting guard looked at me and then to the blade plunged into his waist, screams erupting as he watched his blood spill over his hands from between his breastplate and greaves. Unimpeded by armor, it had struck quickly and sunk in deep. My surprise registered before his, and I winced as his horror-stricken eyes flitted back to mine. His scream joined the rest of the table, the poor baker included, and with a grimace, I pushed the gasping man aside and fled the room.
Paintings and tapestries blurred at my side as I rushed to the stairwell, and with one hand on the banister, I swept down the stairs two at a time. The two inner sentries awaited me with puzzled looks as I collided with the foyer's marble bottom.
"What's happening up there?" I stopped cold in response to their voice. Like talons, their eyes dug into mine before probing my person and spotting the crimson that now dripped from my fingers to the floor. I'd been caught red-handed, but before they could bring it to question, I was forced to act by the thrum of rushing feet against the staircase. My lips curled into a spiteful glower as I unfastened my dagger and clamped my hand against the exposed blade. Magic was expressly forbidden in the innermost confines of Abdera, and all but the castle guard were bound by the unflinching chains of parliament. I, however, had broken free, and I'd use any tool at hand to dig my way out of an early grave.
“Ah!” I griped. The gloss floor was dappled with new blood as the edge nicked my fumbling fingers. It was too small a catalyst, but I had to make do. I forced my essence into the weapon, desperately twisting and folding it into something useful. Electricity to bypass their armor? Or maybe...
Before I decided what form it would take, there was a shuffling in my peripheral, and out of panic, I threw the dagger prematurely. It landed shy, clattering and skittering against the marble before dragging to a halt at the both of their feet. I staggered away, one step and then two as they peered down at the barren blade. All six eyes were glued to the weapon as it started to rattle.
"Out of the way!" one yelled, both diving from the knife before it was enveloped in a bright white flash. The resulting explosion threw us to the floor, shaking the ramparts at their foundation and causing the chandelier to swing violently from its chain. Magic was unstable by nature, a chaotic force that wanted nothing more than to scatter to the wind. If not given form, it would do just that.
The shock wave passed and energy faded, but before I could get back on my feet, the remaining sentinels spilled from the stairs I'd fled from. There were too many to escape from now. Perhaps if I held my blade, I'd have a chance of egress, but as it stood now, my options were fleeting. At least ten men stood in front of me. Meanwhile, on the other side, the gate lifted, and yet one more joined the fray. In the smoke, he emerged, happening upon the two sentries as they scrambled back to their feet. Though shaken—legs weak after being hurled from them—they remained in one piece.
"What is the meaning of this?" he boomed, his orotund voice like thunder drawing every head in the room. The hulk of a man stood in the archway, both shoulders scraping plaster. He wore a helmet, but he needn't raise his visor to reveal his eyes' piercing glow. Beneath it all was a face cut from coarse stone, sharp and square, and with a jaw that could punch through steel. The width of it alone spoke to his immense stature. Confronted by their superior, the guardsman stopped their approach and awaited his command. The man was none other than the head of the royal guard, a titan in power and post.
"Captain Brookes!" came a withering cry, the high bishop slowly working his way down the steps followed by a staggered parade of his fellow councilmen. "This young delinquent is responsible for assault and treason against our highest nobility. Detain him at once!"
"Is treason really what you make of that dispute? Have you no better judgment, or have all of your ears rotted along with the rest of you?"
"Don't let him taint your ear! That menace pulled his blade and threatened his majesty, Duke Eisendale."
"Enough! I can reach a conclusion on my own, thank you." The captain raised his hands to declare silence among his outspoken men, and swiftly they swallowed their voices to avoid angering the goliath. He came to stand beside me, strapped in plates and shining regalia indicative of his high ranking. He carried a glaive and a targe shield, little more than a gleaming knife and spoon in the hands of a giant. "Is this true, Kaiser?" For a man of his size, he spoke calmly and with a soft timbre
"I—I was only attempting to—"
"Every word of it." While I struggled to convey my actions in a less dire manner, the duke descended the staircase, shoes clicking rhythmically along the marble steps.
The captain glanced at Eisendale and back, a hint of anguish hidden beneath his steely glare. "Then you don’t leave me any choice. For some time you've worked under my liege, and for years prior, but don't think this precludes you from following our iron law."
"Make him pay!" "Execute him!" "Bring him to the gallows!" they said in chorus.
"Brookes, you're a better man than this. You know I wouldn't raise my sword without reason. For once, see past your loyalty and listen to—!"
I was silenced by the crack of lightning, and the pang of electricity surging through my calf. "Hold your tongue you traitorous filth!" barked a lesser sentry unwilling to hear me ventilate. Without my notice, he had come behind me with his mace. Another two had soon taken my wrists, yanking and thrusting them skyward in a show of glory.
Before I was dragged off, Eisendale spoke in a low volume: "Let this be a reminder to all those who stand before the throne, lest they forget to whom they kneel. Have you any last words for yourself Kaiser?"
Even in my state most vulnerable, no expression of grief crossed my countenance, likely the effect of my foolish pride. Instead, I bore my eyes into his, and my nostrils flared. "Like Crodmill and the towns before it, your skies will fill with ash, and when your people burn before you, you'll have only your negligence to blame."
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Deep beneath the castle, I was dragged and thrown against the cold stone floor of the cell without my arms to break the fall. The blistering pain of the ropes binding my wrists quickly numbed thereafter, and I twisted and struggled to where I lay on my back before sitting upright. A second later, my head cracked against the floor, and I was face down once again.
“Try that again, cretin. I know these corpses won't object to an early execution."
All around me, I heard their weak voices, the groans of the other prisoners, but I didn't move my head to look until the sentinel turned to leave. As he did, a sea of chained vagabonds' hands flooded from between the bars, each reaching and grasping for the legs of the men that imprisoned them.
"Get back, ya sorry misfits!" one shouted, crushing their hands beneath his boot. The other hastily followed him out of my cell and slammed the door. Then, with a turn of the key, my fate was sealed, but they didn’t leave. Through my cage, they watched with disgust the animal they had detained. I was just another in the menagerie.
“To think, this one used to be a squire. Good to see you get what you deserve.” He spat at my feet. “You lot never give us the time of day—now we get to return the favor.”
“Why do you aim your spite at me and not our council? I fought for your protection as much as I did my own.”
His head pressed between the bars. “Tell that to Locke or Percy. Or to Niall if he walks away after what you did to him! ”
“Oh, give it a rest. Don’t let the sap get to you. He’ll get what’s coming for him.”
He grunted at his partner’s dissuasion, shaking the door to let me know I’d be going nowhere fast. After several more snide remarks, I was left to my own dank solitude—or so I thought. Another pair of boots marched opposite to the rest, louder and heavier.
"Kaiser," he sighed. "How could this have happened? If I'd only been there sooner, perhaps all of this could have been avoided. But now, you've done even more than I can convince them to forgive."
I didn't meet his eyes.
"Whatever the result of your misdeeds, I know you mean well. Your loyalty runs deeper than all of them, and it's my duty to repay it in full. I'll do all in my power to have you removed from death row, but expect no less than a lifetime of punishment in our holding cells. I'm sorry there isn't more I can do."
“Thank you, captain.”
“As for your investigation, I’ve taken it upon myself to end what you started. No matter my attempts, the council wouldn’t accept your deduction, so I’m sending troops to double back to the site. I won’t allow this monster to cast a pall over Abdera, even if our lord is content to.”
I bobbed my head, and he lingered a moment before retracing his steps, shutting the door behind him and allowing me to voice my frustration. It started as a tickle in the throat, a stinging behind the eyes that grew until I had to force them shut. Like a pipe with too much pressure, the metal whined, and the steam started to seep. The more my adrenaline faded, the more reality sunk its teeth in, and the less I was able to keep it contained. Eventually, I wasn’t. Loudly and miserably I growled—howled my grievances until my chest throbbed and my throat grew sore. My head slunk back in resignation.
To be chained here like a dog. It was degrading. In less than a day's time I had plastered my name into the book of infamy, stripped myself of years of hard-earned valor, for what purpose and to what end? I tried to do them justice, but my time—my life—was wasted along with so many before it and so many more to come. I don’t know what else I expected. Maybe I thought that speaking the truth was enough, but what benefit was there to speak the truth in a kingdom built of lies? How many here were aware of what came for them? How many knew that none came to save them?
My fuming could only last so long in these chilled, cramped caves before it was overtaken. It was cold down there, and my rants were a waste of precious energy. I latched my bound hands around my knees to keep warm as I attempted to calm myself. With all the time I could ask for, I closed my eyes and recounted to myself the day's events. It was my run-in with the Duke that cemented me here, but something else had taken precedence in my mind. In an instant, I was transported back to the charred town—the revolting sights and smells filling my senses as though they'd never truly left. Over and over the scene repeated itself in my head. My brush with death, the flash of red and yellow light as its cleansing flames surrounded me, and the wyvern's shadow stretched across the lush green of the plains...I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd seen it all before. It seemed a distant memory despite the recency of the event.
Despite putting my best efforts into recalling such an event in my past, I was unable. Like a word on the tip of the tongue, the more I pried into my memory, the more I lost sight of what I hoped to find. One thing was certain: no matter how much I may try and forget it, the day would come that that glittering beast would set fire to our horizon. Abdera would be painted black by the same flames that were seared into my memory, and with so much time to myself, I'd be counting down the days.