A young boy walked along a red rocky path; a trail carved into the mountain side. Dusty obscured signs and broken planks of wood appeared from time to time. But the trail he followed was abandoned. Just like the castle that appeared before him. The large gray stones felt out of place against the blue sky above. Today, the wispy clouds like cotton pulled apart, spotted high in the sky if you craned your neck back far enough. Not a single creature floated overhead. No eagle, no falcon, no hawk in the air. And no dragon to be seen.
Godlow trekked up half the mountainside to meet one reported in the area. A peasant couple heard of a castle long since its last feast. It would've been around where Godlow stood, on the edge of the cliff, where they saw a soaring dragon in the sky. Of course, it could all just be simple talk of the tavern.
He brought nary a shield nor armor, but a flimsy sword at his side for that prospect. He aimed for this venture to simply be a scouting mission. Godlow could call the quest quits right here. More than likely, it was just a rumor. But the guilt Godlow would feel if there was something inside, perhaps taking a snooze upon its pile of bones and gold. He would hear news of burning plains and farmland the next week. "A WHOLE VILLAGE SLAUGHTERED," the paper's titles would say. He'd sooner die to his own sword than amend his terrible mistake. No, he had to be certain.
Oh, how he hated dragons.
The young man could see the ruined state from the cliffside, but the damage was truly devastating to see up close. The abandoned castle once belonged to a wealthy noble; an eccentric fellow who gave allegiance to a religion dictated blasphemous by the Church. At the news of his excommunication, the pagan's parents forsook him in this small fortress to live out his days. He was satisfied in the decision as he could live closer to the gods he cherished. Though, the War of the Will wrought his dream in ashes a century ago and now the land has been forgotten by all, save for the scholar and gossip.
Godlow discovered charred stones, fractured hickory tables and chairs, and ripped silk banners. Shattered white plates and crystalline glasses yet remained from the battle decades past. The walls and rooves caved, pouring in the morning light. He journeyed through the keep, inner ward, and the dungeons, partially buried under rock and rubble. He knelt and prayed in each room. He detected not a single living creature. Yet, he felt the presence of a hundred staring souls. He didn't expect the chance to deliver burial rites would come by so early in his knighthood. He started to feel gratitude again that the sisters forced him into Saturday classes.
Noon past since the time Godlow finished exploring the dark lower cavities and the large open spaces of the castle remains. Although the ruined fortress was neither large nor affluent – especially when compared to the golden-silvery streets of the capital – this point on the map was a vital position in the war as he learned in his history lessons. Many warriors fell on the very ground he stepped on. The bodies have been cleared out ages ago, but the site remains barren. No one wished to associate with a pagan maniac's legacy. Despite the rest of the kingdom hiding away this piece of history, Godlow gave everyone a chance to move on. He could feel the evening light grace him under his light armor to his skin as the day flowed on. A proper rite takes time.
The last place he left until the end was the tower. There were no maps of the castle in any nearby libraries, at least none he could access but he could tell there used to stand several around the perimeter. Now, there stood only one shoddy structure amidst the wreckage. Godlow identified multiple parts of the tower where the walls collapsed. As unstable as it may appear, it could definitely hide a dragon at its peak.
The most likely places to find a squatting dragon in a castle are the dungeons and the towers. These dungeons were cramped and caved in. Dragons are the largest natural living creatures in the world– at least as far as humans are able to confirm. Sea leviathans are always spotted every other day by coastal towns but they lived in the water anyways. There's no living thing that could best a sea serpent in the abyssal depths.
But dragons roamed the abyssal heights. They ruled the secular world from the heavens. And when they do land down, they'll do it in their caves, hoarding their copious amounts of wealth or they'll do it on a pillar in the sky, watching over the surrounding land with a sharp gaze. Considering that no dragon fire blasted the boy from above, he can assume there's no dragon at all or it's in a deep slumber. That would be the only time you could attempt to kill one.
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And Godlow brought a flimsy sword. What a fool he was!
Oh, how he hated dragons!
The tower didn't seem likely but now it's the only place he hadn't yet checked. If it wasn't there then he'll wait through the night when it may come back. If by next morning, there's neither fire to heed nor wingbeat to hark, then he'll share a laugh and a pint with everyone else at the tavern.
The cracked spiral staircase rocked under Godlow's weight, loosing stones that fell a hundred feet below. At times, the ridges of the mountain's copper rocks would come into view through the large gaps in the walls. The tower had been designed to stand taller than most of the surrounding mountains. The pagan noble had been an important leader in composing the castle's architecture. He didn't know much about other religions and cultures than Cicilianity but it would explain the unusually claustrophobic dungeons as well.
Another curious thing Godlow had taken notice of was the lack of animals around. Almost everywhere in the world, and especially in ruins like these, there was at least a mouse or a snake meandering about. From what he could recall from a book on wildlife he read as a child, little sign of critters in an area usually means it was part of a greater creature's territory. One that could demand authority and fear from the inhabitants. There were few kinds of beasts in the natural world like that. One of them is sea monsters. Another is mankind. And a third...
Godlow smoothed his steps to a panther's stalk. Even though he kept quiet throughout the day, there would be no point to his coming here if he wasn't careful now. As tricky as it is to maintain steady footholds on a crumbling staircase whilst moving as silent as the dead, the next part would be much, much trickier.
Something became apparent as he listened cautiously. Something in the back of his mind he crossed off as the creaky wind whistling through the deserted empty hollows. The young man saw the skylight cut the dim space within the tower. He rested a hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
Dragons were intelligent creatures. Intelligent enough to conversate with. The Church deemed a creature's capacity to speak as the Devil's Tongue. Granted by the King of Hell himself, beasts would use it for corrupting the innocent with fraudulence and deception. Only established knights with a verified priest title could slay one of these heinous monsters. Most knights attempted to obtain the authority in hopes of the glory that came with slaying a dragon, but soon retired after coming to realize how arduous an effort acquiring the appellation truly is. Abstaining from materialistic desires is no easy challenge for any man to conquer, regardless of the strength, skill, or wit one can offer. If a beast were to corrupt even one knight, the entire Church's authority would be called into question.
Godlow peeked through cracked walls for precious slits of sky. No wings, no horns, no tail, nobody. He continued to creep upwards and kept a low center of gravity as he moved. When the young man reached the end of the long winding staircase– he spotted a wing. A couple of horns. A tail. Then the whole body came into view. Godlow stared at the beast breathing through its angled nostrils. Spikes like a thorn bush protruded from the spine and around the maw. Dark crimson scales coloured like pooling blood wrapped all parts of its body, except the folded in leather wings. It was the first time Godlow met one face to face. Even in its sleep, the dragon's mask was sharp, fierce, and scarred, as if to dare the child to harm it like the many others tried before him. This face was the one that scared all the animals away. But the knight had never looked calmer.
He saw the horns sticking out of the jawline. They were long and curved, indicating his masculinity and the great length of his lifespan. No doubt his wings could shadow a village. The scales would be harder than frosted rocks. Godlow wondered how he could possibly pierce the hide with such a dull knife. He knew that he'd have to resort to stabbing the brain through the eye, a surefire method to kill all animals (that have eyes). A surefire one, yet a most painful method he had hoped to avoid.
Godlow noticed something strange about the dragon's eye. It was scabbed. This dragon... was he blind? The aged scar on his scales couldn't have been recent. How has this dragon been surviving all this time with an old blind eye?
He hated dragons. Such an intelligent creature that can talk in human tongues. Such a powerful and proud beast to walk on God's green earth and fly his white skies. What have they seen during their long lives, as long as the sky is wide? How many humans have tried and failed to kill such broad beasts for honour and respect? Is Godlow his last aggressor? Is he Godlow's final burden?
Why must he be the one to end him?
Godlow's hand stayed at his hip. The boy may be a knight, but he was still a boy. The little trickle of acquired experience under his belt compares to nothing to the ocean in front of him. A true warrior, proudly wearing his time on his very skin. He hasn't lived so long by luck. It would be no surprise that the dragon had detected him long ago. He sensed the boy's hesitation in his heart. When he opened his good eye he already knew the child was no threat.
"Boy," he bellowed from the bottom of his belly. "What are you doing up here?"