Emily clutched her husband’s arm tight as they turned off the Divine Path and walked down a tree lined avenue that was bordered on both ends by large mansions boasting well-manicured grounds. The royal palace of Estos, was a huge dome topped building that stood at the opposite end of the road. It was backed by the sheer white cliffs of one of the Sentinels.
Their mood was relaxed. Birds sang from the nearby trees, and this part of the city was otherwise silent, making it feel like it was just for them, and Emily dared to believe that the end of the war was in sight. The king had said that he intended to go no further than Estos, which was a wise decision. The Central Kingdoms would not stand idly by forever while the Carthuns approached their borders.
“I miss this,” she sighed with a contented smile.
They continued walking in silence, basking in each other’s company until they approached the Royal Plaza which lay just before the palace itself. Arthur could see something was amiss and stopped abruptly. A lone man stood in the centre of the plaza. All around him lay corpses, the remains group Arthur had sent ahead to secure the palace. They numbered almost a hundred in all and had suffered hideous wounds. Some of them were cut clean in half, their steel armour shorn straight through.
“You three, take Lady Soren back to the gates,” Arthur ordered, his eyes fixed on the man.
He had the gold-yellow skin and delicate features of the people of the Central Kingdoms. He wore flowing blue robes that were stained with blood and held a bronze short sword with an unusual circular hilt in his hand.
Emily clutched Arthur’s hand tight. “No, I can help,” she gasped, taking in the destruction, “this man is unlike anything we have encountered before.”
“Turn back,” the man said, his voice was clear and melodic and left a strange longing in those who heard it to hear more. “I have no wish to fight you.”
Arthur shrugged Emily off gently and unsheathed his longsword, Emerald Flame, it shimmered like green glass in the midday sun.
“That voice…” Arthur gasped. “You’re a Visitor.?”
“Yes, I am,” the man admitted. “Please, in the name of the Three, go no further.”
“Were the Central Kingdoms behind the Hulvan Betrayal?” Arthur demanded as he advanced cautiously.
Tim and Eric drew their swords while Karl hefted his huge war maul.
“No, I acted on my own initiative,” the Visitor replied. His voice trembled as he spoke and there were tears in his eyes. “Please, do not force me to take your lives.”
“Stay in the rear,” Arthur said softly to his wife, “and run at the first sign of trouble.”
“Men,” he called out to the other three, “follow my lead.”
“Lay down your weapon and surrender,” Arthur ordered as the five men stepped onto the patterned tiled floor of the plaza and fanned out, surrounding their foe. “We have many questions for you.”
“I beg you, please, withdraw,” the strange man pleaded. He then looked at Emily and Tim in turn and let off a wail of despair. “The two of you have been touched by…”
“Stand back, My Prince,” Karl, said, stepping forward, “A North Man does not need assistance against a single foe.”
He charged the man, war maul raised but, at the last moment, his instincts screamed danger and he came to a halt just outside of the man's sword range. Arthur was close on his heels with Eric and Tim converging on either side. Karl dispelled his fear with a great bellow and stepped in with a two-handed sideways swing of his war maul.
The man swayed back gracefully, and his sword flashed out towards Arthur who had taken the opportunity to attack from the side. Arthur Dragos, lauded as the most gifted Carthun swordsman of the last four generations, was just able to parry the lightning quick blow with Emerald Flame. As their swords clashed, Arthur felt as though he had been hit by a charging bull. The blow swept him off his feet, flinging him back twenty feet into a pile of broken corpses.
Eric could not believe what he had seen and hesitated for half a second. Tim did not, and stabbed at the man's chest. Eric's chopping blow to his shoulder came just after. The man used the hilt of his sword to stop Tim's blow and swept aside Eric’s strike with the blade. The naked fist of his left hand connected with Tim's chest squarely, launching him backwards, and leaving a deep dent in his cuirass. Eric stopped in his tracks, and Karl circled well out of range. The first exchange had lasted seconds and had left the Carthun combatants breathless.
“Stand down, please,” the man’s voice trembled, “you are outmatched. I have no desire to harm you.”
Arthur scrambled to his feet and examined Emerald Flame. There was a slight gouge where the swords had clashed. He then looked at the man's sword. It was pristine. The prince knew that if he were using a normal sword, he would have shared the fate of the men he had sent to secure the palace.
“Wait,” Arthur cried out as Karl was about to make another impulsive charge.
Tim staggered to his feet and touched the dent in his cuirass. The four men circled cautiously looking for an opening. Their adversary stood still with his arms loose by his side.
Eric feinted, and Tim charged the man with his shield raised. He adjusted his step awkwardly to avoid a dead man’s arm and slipped on a pool of blood. Tim felt his legs slide out from under him as the man's sword struck his shield, shattering it and missing his nose by a hair’s breadth as he fell.
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Arthur stepped in and hacked downward as his adversary swung around. He grunted as their swords met and tried to overpower his opponent. He gritted his teeth as his arms were thrown upward at the strength behind the man’s blow.
Karl planted his feet and swung with all his might at the man’s exposed back. It was a clean strike, but the man didn’t move a hair. Karl was stunned, it was as though he had struck the side of a mountain. Eric swung down at the man's torso with all his might. The man caught the blade with his free, bare hand. Blood dripped from the man’s hand as Eric and Karl stared at him, agape.
“Sons of Carthus, get clear!” the men recognized Erwin Framond’s voice and scrambled away. Eric released his sword and left it in the man's hand in his haste to get clear.
As they scampered away, a hail of arrows came raining down on the man. The Carthuns present could scarcely believe their eyes as the man seemed to grow as he crouched down on all fours. Wings sprouted from his back, large and leathery, the man's smooth golden skin turned scaly and black, his face and neck grew longer, and his clothes were torn to shreds as his body grew until he was as large as a house.
“It's a bloody dragon,” Tim gasped as the arrows rained down on the man beast, piercing its hide and its leathery wings.
“A Child of Barylon?” Eric exclaimed incredulously. “Please tell me I’m dreaming.”
“If you are, dream up a bigger dragon or something to take care of that thing,” Tim shot back.
Erwin and the archers at his back stood agape at the beast that now towered over them.
“So, it has come to this,” the beast said in the man's voice.
It turned to the archers and opened its fang lined mouth. Its eyes rolled back as it inhaled deeply.
“Get clear!” Erwin screamed as he scrambled away.
Most of the men stood dumbfounded at the sight before them and were incinerated by the flames that shot out of the beast's mouth. Tim watched his friends burn in shock as he was driven back by the heat of the dragon fire. Not only were the mythical children of the Gods real, but they were fighting against them. Why?
Not knowing what else to do, Arthur charged at the beast. The dragon flicked its tail at him and sent him skittering across the courtyard once more. A fireball then exploded against the dragon’s head, causing no apparent harm to the beast. It glared at Emily, who stepped back involuntarily.
Karl beat the kite shield he had picked up off one of the fallen with his war maul gleefully as he placed himself between the princess and the dragon. “Come, beast. I, Karl Thomas will be your foe.”
His excitement soared, and blood roared through his veins. The campaign had been frustrating for him so far, but now he would face off against a dragon in single combat. Whatever his fate, his tale would become the stuff of legend to his people, and his place at Archava’s side in the next realm was assured.
The beast snapped at him. Karl attempted to block it with his shield, but the force of the impact sent his shield clattering to the floor, and Karl himself stumbling backwards. He gripped his war maul with both hands and sent it flying upwards with an underhand swing, connecting neatly with the beast's chin.
The dragon's head flew up, dazed from the blow. It shook its head like a giant dog before lashing out with its long talons. Karl swayed but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the blow. The claws caught him across the chest, carving great rents in his thick steel breastplate that left two parallel scars deep in his chest. Karl went crashing to the ground from the impact as the beast loomed over him.
Eric flung his shield at the creature with all his might, and it bounced off its head, doing nothing but catching the beast’s attention. As Karl scrambled away, the beast flicked its tail out at Eric, catching him in the chest, and sending him flying. The boy crashed to the ground and groaned, clutching his chest. He struggled to get to his feet but his strength gave out, and he slumped back down to the ground.
Eric’s shield happened to land at Tim’s feet, and he scooped it up before yelling to gain the dragon’s attention. He darted in and out of its range, trying to threaten it with his sword. The beast swiped at him with its claws, tearing the shield from his hand. Charging up the dragon's blind side came Arthur. The prince hacked at the beast with Emerald Flame, slicing through the scales and flesh of its hindquarters. The cut was not deep, but the creature recoiled, and the men were heartened to see it bleed.
The beast recovered quickly while Arthur was admiring the wound he had inflicted and snatched him up in its jaws. Tim watched helplessly as its fangs pierce the prince’s armour. It shook his lifeless body in its mouth before tossing him carelessly to the side.
Emily looked at the lifeless form of her husband and saw the massive holes the beast’s fangs had rent in his gold armour, and she knew he was dead. She felt grief and rage bubble up from deep within her until it overflowed and exploded.
“Nooooo!” she cried, her voice was shrill and inhuman, stunning all who heard it.
Her eyes turned black, and she saw a sword on the ground and in her fury and grief, she willed it to rise. The sword rose swiftly, carried by an unseen force and its blade glowed red hot. Emily focused her rage and hurled it with all her mental might at the dragon. It struck the great creature in the chest, burying itself to the hilt and then she collapsed, spent.
The dragon let loose an ear-piercing shriek of agony and looked at Emily with a murderous rage. It reared its head and rolled its eyes back to protect them from the searing flames before taking a deep breath. Emily tried to move her body, but it would not respond. She closed her eyes and prepared to join her husband in the next life.
Tim, however, had not given up hope yet. He moved quickly, scrambling to position himself between her and the dragon. The dragon breathed fire, which Tim blocked with his shield. The dragon wheezed, and the flames ceased. The sword in its chest punctured one of its lungs. The dragon sputtered as it struggled to regain its breath before rearing its head once more.
Emily looked around frantically and saw Emerald Flame, lying on the ground. Then she saw Tim, the brave boy soldier standing between her and the beast, his shield raised hopelessly against the impending flames. She summoned the last of her strength and willed the sword into the boy's path.
Tim saw the sword clattering across the courtyard to his feet and picked it up quickly. Summoning his last scrap of his strength, he charged the great beast. As he drew close, the dragon exhaled, sending flames bursting from its mouth. Tim raised Eric’s shield once more and gritted his teeth. The dragon flame was searing hot the shield glowed red, and molten metal dripped from the sides, but the creature's breath was ragged, and the flames sputtered out intermittently.
Tim ignored the searing hot pain in his arm and held the shield up, closing the gap as quickly as he could. Then, the flames stopped. The dragon’s breathing was ragged. Tim cast the ruined shield aside and, ignoring the pain in his arm, gripped Emerald Flame with both hands, thrusting it up into the beast's lowered neck. The sword pierced the dragon's scales and Tim was able to bury the blade six inches into its thick neck before the beast jerked aside, lifting Tim off the ground as his fingers clung stubbornly onto the sword.
The beast's wild spasms made widened the wound until Tim could hold on no more. He released his grip and was tossed clear. The beast staggered and swayed a few times and collapsed, with a gaping hole in its neck.
Tim lay on the ground, willing his body to move, not knowing if their foe was dead. However, the pain was overwhelming, and his body began to shut down. The last thing he heard before passing out was Emily screaming Arthur’s name.