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The Aeon of Dragons
EP8: The Empty Banquet

EP8: The Empty Banquet

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When there's nothing left to say, there's only things to do. And when there's nothing left to do, then what remains is the truth of who we are. For a man of power, like the Tyrant Rayos, that truth was his most base desires and instincts.

"Send the captives to the dungeon," the tyrant said. He motioned to the guards, who picked up Jason, Rudra, and Morse, who were still recovering from the burning purple dragon blood that had been put onto their eyes, and the visions that they had. "And prepare a feast. My new wife, the elf queen Frine, will join me. Bring her to the maiden's chamber so she can prepare. Carluch, I want you to keep watch with the rest of the guards. If we are attacked, you will notify me first. Now, off with you all!"

The rest of the guards filed out of the chamber along with Carluch, who followed the commands of the tyrant, even if they went against his visions. The role of the seer wasn't to question the tyrant, or to subvert his order, but only to cultivate the vision into the deepest realities, both seen and unseen, and speak them so that the tyrant could make those decisions.

Carluch had fulfilled his role and duty. He knew inside that what was coming to Hilaboreas was unprecedented. How could it not be? The signs were clear, the girl from the stars with fire eyes crash landed in their kingdom. There was great significance to this, even if its full meaning wasn't known yet. Carluch had no doubt that an enemy was coming, and soon.

Now that the three captives had been dragged down to the dungeon, the elf queen Frine found her maiden chamber, the seer Carluch and the guards stood watch, the Tyrant Rayos had his chamber all to himself again. Just him and the beating heart of the dragon that he had slain so many years ago.

The sound of the heart gave off a faint, soft echo in the empty chamber room. The soft beat brought the tyrant into a deeper contemplation. He marinated in his thoughts and memories, which brought him back to the day he killed that dragon.

He was 17 years old and without a kingdom, as in those days the northern forests were only cut by exiled farmers. It was elvish land, almost exclusively, ran by the Ilfaros clan, who dominated the northern forests and the desert wastelands to the west. They shared their rule with the Altaimi, a roguish clan of elves, who were conscripted to keep the forests clear and safe from the Morlogian races.

This agreement was long-standing, having been signed between the two elven clans more than 500 years prior. The Ilfaros allowed humans to farm the land, but without any specific protections. If a goblin, or more rarely an orc, made it into the forest and attacked a farm, humans had to fend for themselves.

This was the way of things for as long as anybody could remember. Rayos grew up on one of these farms, where his father planted carrots and pumpkins and raised geese and rabbits. It was a meager, bleak existence, but it was all that they could muster.

His mother had died at childbirth, and he had no other siblings. An encounter with an orc had left his father injured, with busted legs and blind in one eye, after encountering an orc in the Treacher when he was young.

Growing up and seeing his father unable to make more of himself than the carrots that sold for pennies kindled a fire in him. Rayos wanted revenge on the world, but he didn't know how to get it.

He set out into the elvish forests with nothing but the clothes on his back and a dagger. It didn't take him long to run into an elf scout from the Altaimi clan, who camped in the forests and hunted down goblins. This scout told him of an old dragon that lived beneath the mountains in the western wastelands, a plateau of desert and rock.

The elves didn't care to disturb the dragon, as it seemed peaceful in its old age, and didn't attack or cause any trouble in their kingdoms. Dragons could live for thousands of years. This gave them the appearance of immortality, as stories and legends would pass down ear to ear, generation to generation, about the same dragon. But they did grow old, and when that happened, they became reclusive, hiding out from the world that they once dominated. They abandoned their normal lairs and riches, to find the most hidden caves and crevices of Lokar, so that they could die a dignified death alone.

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Rayos heard this story about the reclusive old dragon and his mind got to thinking what it would be like to slay it. There was no law, human or elven, against such action, even when the dragon was old and retreated from the world.

When a dragon was strong, it attacked anything in sight to build its domain, elves or orcs, humans or goblins, and even other dragons. But once a dragon was established, it retired to its riches accumulated through war and pillage, and left the world alone. They chose deep underground lairs beneath mountains, impossible to reach by foot. These dragons, when strong, were targets for raids by humans who wanted power, but these attacks failed nearly every time. When they succeeded, which was exceptionally rare, the humans established a new kingdom around the slain dragon, using its heart and blood to coax a seer into their fold, so that they could have access to his powers.

Rayos had a lead on one of these old dragons. This is how he saw himself carving out a place in the world. The elven scout told him it would be impossible, as the wastelands were inhospitable to even the Morlogian races, let alone a human.

The slow, rhythmic thump of the dragon heart in the cauldron brought these memories back to Rayos, as he sat alone in his chamber. A guard entered and interrupted his reminiscence.

"My tyrant," the guard said. "Your lady, the elf queen Frine, is ready to see you."

The tyrant grunted and stood up from his dragon bone throne. He waved off the guard and walked off to his private room so that he could get ready to see his new queen. She was brought to his quarters by two maids. Frine stood silent before the tyrant, looking down and away. The two maids were waved off, leaving Frine and the tyrant alone together in his private chamber.

At first, the tyrant tried to approach with a gentle caress. This didn't work. Frine stepped away and brushed off his hand. He tried more forcefully and this only made her fight back.

"You're mine now," the tyrant said. "I don't care if you like it or not. All my life I've had everything I wanted. Women, gold, great gifts from other lands. Hell, I have the beating heart of a dragon in my chamber, with its magical purple blood on tap. What else could a man like me want?"

The tyrant grabbed hold of Frine's arms and pulled her closer to him. He stared her down and forced her to look at him, grabbing her chin and peeling open her eyes with his thumb.

"You don't know this," he continued, "but so many years ago, when I slayed that dragon, it was because one of your royal house's scouts. Before you were born, before you were even an idea. Can you imagine that? One of your own gave me the chance to make something of myself, to carve out power in this dark world? And now look, I have an emerald eye beauty, the queen of the Altaimi herself. Will I be satisfied with this? I'm unsure, as I still haven't had a proper taste."

The tyrant pressed his lips against Frine's. She pulled back and kicked him in the knee with enough force to break free of his grasp. She moved back to the corner and covered her face.

The tyrant laughed at this pathetic show of resistance. He'd let her have her little delusion of freedom for now, but her body and mind were his, and his alone, now that she was in his castle.

"Guards, come," the tyrant barked. "Take her back to her chamber. She's still in the ripening phase, not yet ready to be picked for my tongue and pleasure."

"They're coming," Frine whispered.

"What did you say?"

"They're coming to get you," she said. "You'll never have me. It's not my destiny to be yours."

"Destiny be damned," the tyrant said. "Your elven astrologers know nothing. Look at me! I am a dumb farmer's son. I built this kingdom from nothing, after slaying a dragon in the wastelands. Destiny be damned. I take what I want. I will have you, elf queen, after the banquet. You will be mine. Now, guards! Take her!"

Two guards came in and took Frine back to the maid's quarters. They kept her there for three days and nights as the banquet was prepared by the castle's chefs.

A whole spread of delicacies were being cooked up in the kitchen. Fat roasted turkeys, legs of lamb imported from the east, herbs and spices from far continents, salmon and sturgeon roe from the seas, wine only corked and poured for the greatest kings.

When the banquet was ready, the tyrant met the elf queen Frine, and sat with her side by side. She ate nothing, while he pigged out on every delicacy offered.

"Tonight, after this feast, I'll have you naked in my chamber," the tyrant said. "You'll be the perfect dessert."

This empty threat didn't bother Frine. Deep inside, she knew that she would retain her honor. But even so, she didn't smile. There was no happiness in her eyes, for she knew that a greater danger had been awakened in Lokar. And it'd soon be at the castle's doorstep.

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