John awoke and found that he was chained to a brick wall which was not there before. He tried to break the chain of the shackles that were binding him but was surprised to find that he could not, and his heart sank. For it seemed that the harder he tried. The weaker he became. It felt to him as if his very soul was being drained from him.
“I’m glad to see that you’re okay, John. I would hate to think you were damaged before I had the chance to take what I need from you,” said Ulicoth triumphantly.
“What the hell are you doing to me?” asked John weakly.
‘He’s got spirit,’ Kilamen said to Ulicoth.
“Yes, he has, hasn’t he? It’ll be a shame to kill him, but who really cares?” replied Ulicoth.
“YOU’RE GOING TO BURN IN HELL!” John scolded, gathering all that was left of his strength.
Kilamen punched him in the face. “Let me kill this weakling” she said.
“Soon enough,” said Ulicoth, whose face was almost completely healed. “To answer your question, John, I’m draining you of every last drop of strength and power,” said Ulicoth firmly. “The shackles you’re wearing are linked to this bracelet that I am wearing, by the small stones of the birth crystals of the twin Dragons, Lanasic and Cellock. The crystals on the shackles shall drain you of your life and give it to me, so I may destroy the simpletons of the Order of Lanasic and any foolish enough to follow them to their destruction.”
“They will fight,” said John his voice now weaker.
“I have no doubt in my mind that they will. However, how could they possibly hope to fight without their champion to fulfil the Second Prophecy?” said Ulicoth, his voice getting stronger.
Ulicoth was standing upright. His breathing was stronger, his hands now looked young and the bulging veins were gone.
“How did you stop the Prophecy?” John asked, finding it harder to breathe. His skin was wrinkled, and purple veins were now visible bulging out throughout his entire body.
He had other questions, but found he could no longer utter even the simplest word; he could not even move his fingers or toes.
“How, you ask?” said Ulicoth. “Simple. I fed our old friend some misinformation. Kilamen and I put on shows for Demala, and we let him listen in on what he thought were disagreements between us. We knew he would take it all to you, his new friend. After all, how could he pass up an opportunity to gain your trust so you may one-day reward him by lifting the curse that he hates so much? And as I knew that getting rid of his curse is and always has been the only thing that he really cares about, I used him, and he brought you straight to me. You are the only person other than Kilamen that could restore me to full health. Thank you truly from the bottom of what is left of my heart.”
“Time is dragging on; his friends have almost won the first battle. So shall I kill him now?” said Kilamen with optimism in her voice.
“Oh, very well, though personally I would’ve liked to have tortured him first. But if you must,” said Ulicoth coldly. The wound on his lip was fully healed, though there was a small scar near the centre of his top lip, just on the left side, that he would carry for the rest of his life.
Kilamen took a sword from the wall.
“Wait.” Ulicoth reached forward and took Dragdani’s Dragon in his hand. “I almost forgot about this piece of crap that is so valued by the twits of your order,” he said. As he pulled it from John’s neck the rope snapped. The Dark Lord stepped back and nodded at his waiting friend without any more thought.
Kilamen cut John’s head clean off.
“Pick it up and add it to my collection, and use this. I don’t want blood all over the place.” Ulicoth threw Kilamen a black head sack. Kilamen lifted John’s head by the hair and threw it into the sack and strode out of the room.
Ulicoth walked out onto the balcony, and with his purple eyes, stared down at the almost finished battle and laughed to himself. Then turning and lifting his left hand, he said, “Stand and come to me.”
John’s body jumped up and walked out onto the balcony and stopped beside Ulicoth. Again, Ulicoth looked down and saw the battle was now over. There were shouts and cries coming from the side of the mountain. Three Lores and two Goblins were scampering up trying to reach the fortress and in doing so. They unwitting were revealing the two paths that lead the way up.
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Elvin archers shot down both Goblins and two of the Lores. The last Lore was squealing as it ran. But before any of the archers on the ground were able to let loose any more arrows, Ulicoth threw an energy ball down which instantly blew the Lore to pieces.
“Now that I have caught your attention,” he said, “I would like to give you the opportunity to surrender,” said Ulicoth loudly.
Laughter could clearly be heard. But Delsani put up his hand for it to stop, for he knew that there was something amiss if Ulicoth was alive and well.
“HOW DARE YOU LAUGH AT ME! I SHALL SOON WIPE THOSE ARROGANT SMILES FROM YOUR FACES!” shrieked Ulicoth furiously.
“The Prophecy says otherwise,” said Delsani.
“Ah, yes, your Prophecy. It is complete rubbish. How foolish can you be old man? It was fake,” Ulicoth taunted, gleefully smiling.
“You would say anything to distort the truth. We do not believe your lies,” replied the old Wizard.
“In that case you may ask your King Jastark, for when he heard the truth he was so shocked he lost his head,” said Ulicoth, with a loud menacing laugh that filled the very air itself. The Wizard-Elf could hear raised voices coming from below.
Delsani, on the other hand, did not need to wonder, for he knew exactly what Ulicoth had meant by that rant. He knew that the only way of insuring the death of a Wizard-Elf was to cut off their head. His heart sank at the thought of his dear friend meeting that horrible fate.
“Here he is, and here is the truth. I do hope that it’s not too hard for your simple minds to understand,” said Ulicoth sarcastically, he looked at John’s body and said, “Jump.”
The body jumped off of the balcony, hit the gravel slope and was sliding down when dust rose up and made it so they could not see what was coming closer to them.
The King’s carcass had reached the bottom of the mountain, and Delsani had run over to it to see that he was right; the Wizard King was dead. The Wizard’s heart split and sank somewhere near his ankles. He bent down and took the sword Yeluilat, so he could return it to its rightful place in the main hall of the Towers of Telian. And with tears beginning to fill his eyes, he took out his wand from his pocket pointed it at John’s body and quietly said, “Infero.” An orange spark shot from the tip of the wand and John’s body was engulfed in flames. Moments later, it had turned to ashes. Delsani bent low over John’s ashes, took out two small vials and filled both. Then he took his place back among the army of the alliance.
“We still greatly outnumber the two of you,” shouted Bacnil.
Again Ulicoth laughed. “You do remember what happened when you challenged Kilamen do you not? Let me remind you. She ripped through your pathetic attempt to defeat her, and she wasn’t even trying. So just imagine what two of us could do if we really wanted to. Besides, we still have a few friends that you haven’t met yet. Shall I introduce you? The first is someone of which I am sure almost all of you know by reputation. Come forward and make your presence known, my old friend.”
Suddenly there came a blood-curdling roar that gripped all of the alliance with fear like they had never felt.
“Dragon!” shouted Avelan fearfully.
“Fall-back!” shouted Bacnil, “as far and as fast as your legs may carry you!” Nearly all ran scattering over the fields like frightened helpless children, which is exactly how most of them felt.
Except Delsani, he stood firm.
Bacnil and Avelan had seen this and ran back to the Wizard. “What do you think you are doing?” said Bacnil. “We should go before –”
He was too late. A gigantic black Dragon had already come from behind the mountains and was almost on them.
“It’s Cellock,” said Delsani.
“How can it be? He perished while fighting Lanisic at the last battle of Salith’s reign? It was said that the brothers died together,” said Avelan, trying not to believe his own eyes.
“That I believed as well, but clearly he survived,” said the Wizard confidently. “He’s been hiding for over six hundred years, waiting for Ulicoth’s call to arms.”
The Dragon was getting ever closer to them, and Avelan had his bow in his hand and an arrow set on the string.
“Go and join the others, both of you. I will stay here, for there is something I know I can do,” said Delsani assertively. He saw that the archers who had run had stopped short and had already shot a wave of arrows at the great beast. But Cellock was too quick; he dodged all.
The Prince and Elf did as the Wizard said and ran to the archers.
A second volley was fired shortly after, but again the Dragon dodged all but one, which was Avelan’s. It caught him under his left wing. The beast opened his massive jaws as wide as they would go, and fire flew from his mouth and nostrils like magma from an erupting volcano. The red merciless flames engulfed most of the archer’s Men and Elves.
It was then that Delsani took his wand, aimed it at the wound just below the Dragon’s left wing and shouted, “AEROSTAY!” A thin red beam of light shot from the tip of his wand and hit the Dragon right where the Wizard aimed it.
Cellock was now flying round and round in circles, for he could not get away. Delsani had roped him, and only the Wizard could break the beam.
Cellock turned, opened his mouth and again spat out fire, but this time at Delsani. The Wizards that had rejoined Bacnil and Avelan deflected it away from him.
When Delsani saw his chance, he shouted “CRIPPLIZE!” And a white pulse was travelling up the red beam, which was turning white the further the pulse went up. The pulse hit the Dragon right under his left wing. Cellock gave another loud roar only this time it was a roar of pain and distress, for the spell had crippled him completely and sent him crashing on to the cleft that Delsani had pointed out to Prince Bacnil earlier that evening.
A loud, furious cry came from the fortress. It echoed far and wide, and all on the ground heard it. Delsani calmly glanced up at Ulicoth, who had hit the stone rail of the balcony with his fist so hard that part of it cracked then crumbled.
“You will have to have more reliable servants than that, oh great and most powerful Wizard-Elf,” shouted Bacnil sarcastically. The men were laughing and shouting.
“You dare mock me!” shouted Ulicoth angrily. “I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, little Prince. For I have yet to deal my full hand. Let me introduce you to my reserve troops, who are at this moment waiting for me and my order to wipe you out like the vermin you are.”