Somewhere in a base in the Urals...
Malekum asked his right hand, a particularly cruel spetznatz: ‘Any news of Emilie?’
Spetznatz: ‘According to our reports, they fell for it, the admiral lost his nerve and destroyed the island, causing a volcanic eruption. They destroyed our decoys and returned, but according to our spies, they think Tiamat survived, in fact it's Emilie who's convinced, with some of the military close to her, while the official version is closed.’
Malekum: ‘Good!
Spetznatz: ‘Emilie has been dismissed and sent home. She's too emotional. That's why she was dismissed. Our undercover dragon men are now handling the investigation into the tribe.
Shall I relaunch the base in Yemen and repair the palace?’
Malekum: ‘Yes, you can do that, but I'll take care of the “recruitment”.
Then the hideous black dragon descended into a military tunnel in his human form covered in tribal tattoos and all the men, military or scientific, who crossed his path threw themselves on their stomachs, even offering their backs so that he could walk on them.
The terror was at its height but any man who peed on himself was systematically devoured. Cowardice was punishable by death.
Even Russian leaders and high-ranking officers knelt before Malekum (not in public), but Malekum was not the type to show himself in front of crowds and preferred discretion.
He then entered a huge laboratory where Tiamat lay, her 4 heads hanging, amorphous and spiritless.
She struggled to lift her red head.
Tiamat: ‘Ah...Son.....’
Then she laid her red head on the ground, transfused and unable to move.
‘Mother...I've come to see how you're doing...’
Tiamat: ‘Oh, how “nice” of you. I suppose you've come to ask me for something, or to take something from me...’
Malekum froze, not responding to his mother's sarcasm as she lay on the ground.
Tiamat: ‘Where's Blackthorne?
Malekum: ‘He's fine..’
Tiamat knew he was lying.
She let out a sigh.
Do what you want, but let me go...’
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Malekum: ’We're treating you.
Malekum: ‘We're nursing you back to health...’
Tiamat: ‘I'm dead...look at me... ‘
Malekum: ‘We're going to bring back your Ego from Faerune... We've had enough sacrifices’
Tiamat: ‘Like Blackthorne? Daathr and my other children?’
Malekum transformed into a black dragon, an almost perfect copy of Blackthorne before his reincarnation.
‘I am the Emperor now...and I demand the crown!’
Tiamat smiled at his words...
‘Do what you like, Son...but I'm just an old dragoness now. I'm no longer the Tiamat you know... I have been judged by the great Hydra. My pedestal awaits me in her museum, but she's given me a little more time. But if you have an ounce of kindness, let me go and rest beside my goddess. I want to be with her at the great departure at the end of time.’
Malekum clicked his tongue, then closed his eyes and a black light covered Tiamat and himself. And... the next moment, nothing had happened.
Malekum flew into an incomprehensible rage and Tiamat curled into a ball, terrified of the black dragon. It was nothing more than an animal hydra. Her deity was a shadow of her former self. She still had her breath, her physical invulnerability and her regeneration, but all her spells had been reduced to a minimum.
Malekum: ‘There's plenty of time to restore your divinity. I suppose your failure and defeat were due to the betrayal of Rudia d'Emilie and her brothers. All we have to do is capture them and put their heads on your chest, right?’
Tiamat cried. ‘I have failed as a goddess, but also as a grandmother... Malekum.. Stop. You see you can't become Tiamat or take the crown. You're not in Hydra's plans!’
Malekum raged..and asked the surgeons to remove the hanging heads, which served no purpose other than to ruin Tiamat's appearance.
Tiamat : ‘No! don't do that..let them regain consciousness..give them time..’
But Malekum was an infernal being, a real demon, worse than his mother who was, before being an infernal archduchess, a dragoness, a hydra and a grandmother.
This infernal dragon was calculating, like a surgeon, and left nothing to chance or even to fantasy.
Then he turned to one of the surgeons: ‘Change of plan. Let her recover and as soon as she can stand it, I want a marrow transplant from Tiamat on me.’
The technicians crawled out of sight of the black monster, knowing that they were all expendable and expendable.
Meanwhile, back at the university, Blackthorne woke up and started crying like a baby and chirping, trying to communicate but he was seized with dread, fear, so much so that Chardon took him in his arms like a 3 year old and stroked him.
‘That's it. There... nobody will hurt you...’
The dragonet was crying big tears, and he was hungry.
The professor conducted an experiment and took a bottle of protein-enriched milk and Blackthorne grasped the life-saving liquid between his 2 paws.
He sucked reflexively but continued to cry about his condition, his situation and also his vulnerability and the terror he was experiencing.
Sensing that Chardon was friendly and protecting him, he tucked his muzzle between his arm and his chest to hide his head and try to get into something to hide...
Chardon remembered the 2 dragonets Ochria and Azur and also little Emilie who was very brave. But Blackthorne was the opposite of what Emilie was arguing.
t.
Blackthorne finally fell asleep as the Professor swayed and said under his breath, ‘I'm getting too old... Emily should make peace with her past...’ but too many horrors, too much violence had tarnished his joy and kindness forever.
He sat down at a table and took out some coloured pencils and paper, Blackthorne on his lap.
‘Little... little... come on, wake up...’
But the dragonet was fearful and pretended to be asleep...
‘I know you can hear me...you're just pretending. ‘But he left him alone and picked up a book and began to tell a story.