Weak Royalty and Prideful Warrior
William's perspective
Minutes passed as my heart raced, and I felt uneasy about the results my father, Lord Dimmal, and I had just achieved. We had just killed two riders and their dragon without batting an eye. Sure, they were working alongside a Blight Fiend, but that doesn't mean much now. We have more questions than answers.
Soon, the two figures in the distance came into sight. They were absolutely dragon riders. One dragon was white, and the other was red, but that's all I can make out from where we stand. My father stepped before me as the baby dragon hid behind me. I can see my father's knuckles turning white from gripping his bow-staff. Lord Dimmal stood fast and ready.
The riders soon noticed the dead dragons as they began to circle us. I could tell that the white dragon's rider was a girl donning white padding armor, similar to what Lord Barren would wear but much thinner. The rider on the red dragon was wearing much bulkier armor that looked like he would be a walking tank.
The riders dove down to us and landed with a massive thud that shook the ground.
I tossed a leg behind me to brace myself as I covered my face from all the dirt sprayed into the air. Looking back up, both the riders and their dragons circled us.
Their dragons were as big as the two dragons I just killed, which is a good thing if things go south.
The red dragon had two massive horns connected to the snout, stretching over its brows and then back towards the nape with the rest of the horns. It also had rigid spikes along its jawline and frilled spine.
The white dragon resembled Lady Elrid in many ways, except for its size, horns, and scales. Lady Elrid had three massive horns, while this dragon had one large horn and spikes under its chin. Its scales enlarged near the horn, covering the base and traveling along the spine. The upper body had large spiked scales, while the rest had regular-sized scales. The wings and limbs were similar.
The rider on the red dragon had blonde hair, thick armor matching his dragon, and a noble appearance. He had thick eyebrows, a young yet stern look, and blue eyes. He had a clean face and a tattoo on his neck that looked like a sword sheathed into a crown.
I soon realized his sword was in his hand. It looked very different from mine as he held it close to his dragon. The dragon showed no concern about how close the blade was to it, which told me how much they trusted each other.
The girl, however, caught my attention. Her wheat blonde hair was styled, so part was tied across her hair while the rest fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were white like snow, alluring in a way that could make someone get lost. But what stood out were her ears. They were pointy, like elves. That would mean she is most likely a half-elf. But I don't recall anyone in the Order of Elven descent.
Her armor was light and almost leathery, matching the color of her dragon. Similar to the other rider, her sword rested on her dragon. The armor was practically identical to Barren's.
The snarling sound of their dragons pulled me back. Tensions were high as sweat went down my head. Sword in my hand, I readied to strike as my father held his ground before me, his bow-staff by his side. Lord Dimmal, though, didn't draw his sword. Instead, he approached them.
"Lady Azrael, Sir Thomas," Lord Dimmal said, shocking me and my father. "Nice to see you both safe."
Maybe Lord Dimmal can get us out of this situation.
"Quiet," said who I assume to be Azrael, furrowing at us in anger. "From what I see, there are two dead riders with their dragon's heads cut off, and you three."
Or not.
"That tells us that you three murdered them," said the other rider, Sir Thomas.
"They were speaking to a blight fiend as if they were working alongside it," I yelled. "That alone makes them traitors to Drakelene, according to the Order. Right?"
"And Hearthglen was attacked by a Titan Rider," my father exclaimed. "That fought alongside the Blight."
"That absurd," Azrael hissed as her dragon snarled even more at us as if it didn't believe us despite seeing the dead fiend's body.
"Absurd?" I responded angrily.
Can't they see that a literal mountain is blown up?
"There's no way a Titan Rider would work alongside the Blight."
"Then who do you think destroyed Hearthglen?" My father glared angrily, tightening his grip on his bow-staff. "Or blew up the mountain? You must be crazy to think us three could do such a thing."
"Watch your tongue, old man," Thomas said threateningly, his dragon snapping towards us as Lord Dimmal stepped before it, glaring menacingly.
"I'll watch your tongue if I were you, Sir Thomas," Lord Dimmal responded.
"Especially when they are coming from a guy sitting on top of a dragon," my father taunted, making me step back. "How about you say that without your backup."
"You dare speak that way to us, even after all of this?" Azrael said, aiming her sword at us. "You speak to the two of the Royal Family. You will know your place, peasants."
There was a pause. The only noise we could hear was the dragons' heavy breathing and the wind. No one dared to speak. Tensions were even higher than before, especially after my father's comment, which perplexed me—until Thomas finally broke the silence.
"Razarin does say this place reeks of the Blight,"
I assume Razarin is his dragon.
Lord Dimmal said, "How about we explore the city and see what we can find. Or do you all want to stay here and rip each other's throats out?"
Their dragons looked at each other, growling and snarling in different pitches, as Azrael and Thomas nodded.
"Fine, we'll explore the city, but if you do anything, we have your heads." Thomas' threat felt more like a promise than a warning.
Sir Thomas' dragon turned away as Lady Azrael's dragon did the same. "And Lady Azrael. Don't boast about Thomas's nobility again. It's unbecoming treating him in such a way."
Azrael turned her head back around, furrowing angrily. "His status begs otherwise, Dimmal," she said mockingly.
I watched as Lord Dimmal rolled his eyes, "His bloodline is forced to serve your family. Or did you forget? Your Highness."
Your Highness?
I was dumbfounded. I didn't realize Azrael—I mean, Lady Azrael—was part of the royal family. That means she is Azrael Drakehart, and Thomas is a Lannister. They have served the Drakehart family since the second age.
"He's nothing more than a noble slave, forever bound to serve the royal family as your knight. Hence why he has that mark on his neck." I didn't dare get involved. This was between nobles, and I sure hell ain't one. "We will talk more in the city."
Lord Dimmal gestures to my father, who then turns towards me and raises his hand as if guiding me.
"After you, youngling," he said annoyingly.
Scoffing at him, I could tell he looked relieved. His white knuckles regained color as I walked toward the city, and the baby dragon that hid behind me followed along. With my sword by my side, traversing the ruined city felt odd.
It was eerily quiet. Something I never thought possible. Looking at all the blood stains on the floor, broken windows, and rumble all laid out before me made me feel uneasy.
Distant. As if it wasn't real. The only thing we didn't see were bodies. But the decaying smell of dead flesh was still in the air. It was grotesque, but it wasn't unbearable. Just sickening.
A hand tapped my shoulder as my father came into view, swiping his bow staff around as if clearing for any dust. "It's way too quiet and empty for a city destroyed by the Blight."
I agree. Where are the bodies and undead?
The baby dragon squealing came by, running along as if looking for something. I soon realized it. No, she was trying to help. Looking towards the sky, I can see Azrael and Thomas flying around. One would assume they were getting a layout of everything, but I was sure they were just watching us.
"Let's head to the Guild; it ain't far from here," my father said out towards Lord Dimmal, who was a few paces behind us.
"Why the Guild?" I asked. He always goes on, Guild this, Guild that. What did the Guild have that he was so interested in? Just thinking about it made me mad.
"The Guild should have supplies that can help us out, destroyed or not," he answered. "Rather get supplies there than our here."
"You don't know if we will find anything there," I argued. "What could the Guild have that could help us?"
"Whether you like it or not, it is better to have a place to regroup," Lord Dimmal said as he walked towards my father.
I grumbled to myself. My father has been trying to get to the Guild since yesterday.
He's hiding something.
Ya. Ya, he is hiding something. He has to be.
Tagging behind both Lord Dimmal and my father, minutes passed as the once pristine mansion-sized building called the Guild was torn apart. Whatever was inside was for all to see.
"Shit," my father said out loud. "Come help me see if they had a basement."
Scoffing at my father, I ran over as I jumped over a few pieces of rubble and looked all over the wooden ground that was torn up or pierced by rock. Many weapons and armor pieces were tattered everywhere. It was almost like a shop. Armor and weapons were littered everywhere, but each was bent or crushed, no longer used.
"Over here," Lord Dimmal yelled out.
"Will, go help Dimmal out; I'll signal the others," my father commanded as he started heading out.
"Wouldn't you give away our position?" I had to ask.
"There's nobody here, Will," was the answer my father gave me. "And if there were, the two dragons outside flying around would be lighting up the place." I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or mocking me because of my question.
Sighing, I ran over to where Lord Dimmal was as I spotted a handle on the ground. The hatch itself was blocked by a large pillar. Crouching down as I grabbed onto the pillar, I did what my father taught me to do when lifting heavy objects, keeping my back straight as I lifted with my legs. It was a slow and painful process as my legs ached from the weight, but I was able to lift up the pillar and move it out of the way as it landed with a loud thud.
"You're a lot stronger than you look, William," Lord Dimmal said, his long navy hair swaying in the wind. "Commander Barren always said you would make a good Dragon Knight."
I was shocked. Barren talked about me?
"Really?" I could feel my lips curving into a smile. My guilt and fears started to fade slowly as I made my way over to the hatch.
"He never stopped talking about you," I smiled even more, looking down as I didn't want Lord Dimmal to see me. He grabbed the handle to the hatch and opened it, revealing the Guild's basement.
When the basement door was open, a brilliant light flashed in the sky. It was my father signaling to the two patrolling riders where we were.
"Does she have a name?" Lord Dimmal asked, drawing my attention.
"Who?" I responded.
"Your dragon, does she have a name?"
I shook my head. "No, she doesn't. Didn't really have the time."
Lord Dimmal patted my shoulder, "Better now than later."
Before I can answer, Lord Dimmal proceeds to enter the basement.
What should I name her?
The baby dragon crawls back to me as I dwell on the idea. She stood on her hind legs and clawed at my shins, not in a painful way. Obviously, she wanted to be picked up, so I reluctantly grabbed her and carried her into the basement.
The basement was huge, almost like a bunker. It had rows of food and equipment we could use. The floor was concrete, with multiple wooden pillars keeping the building from collapsing into the basement. There were about two levels to the basement. Each level is separated by a different purpose. The first level was for weapons and armor, while the second level was for food and supplies. Everything, though, everything was a mess, as if everyone was packing in a hurry.
I made my way over to what appeared to be a white sink, still amazingly intact. Lord Dimmal was looking for something. Letting go of my dragon, I stood before a mirror above the sink as I looked at myself.
I looked awful. Part of my hair was cut off, so my ears and neck were noticeable. A single scar was formed along my jawbone, approaching my chin. Dirt was smeared over my face. My eyes seemed dull and lifeless. Or that could be due to the lighting. In all honesty, I looked like shit.
Sighing loudly, I looked at the bowl and saw a faucet. I was immediately perplexed as to how there was a faucet but didn't care as I turned on the water. The water was cold to the touch as I splashed my face. The cold water gnawed at my face as it dripped down to my chin and back into the bowl. I took another look at my face.
Taking in the moment, I started to think about what happened last night. The people that were killed. Aunt Sifle, Mister Turner, and everyone else. I can still remember the people's screams. The smell of decaying and burning flesh. Seeing the Titan Rider on its dragon's back. Thunder erupts everywhere. Leaving the guards to take care of the people. My home. Everything. Guilt and pain rose up in my chest.
I should've done more. No! What could I have done? No, no, no! That's no excuse. I should've done more.
The pain gnawed more and more as I started to shake. My head shook increasingly until I gritted my teeth and slammed my fist into the mirror, shattering it. Tears began to run down as I slammed a fist into the sink, making a shattering sound as pieces of the sink broke off and crumpled the moment it made contact with the ground.
Gasping loudly, I kept punching the mirror and, soon, the wall, blaming myself.
I should've done more.
I soon felt the same old heartbeat, which I assumed was coming from the baby dragon. Looking down at my leg, I felt her rub against my foot. Despite tears dropping, I gave a soft chuckle as I kneeled beside her. She was almost like a cat, standing upright as I petted her. She purred loudly as I felt some of the guilt and pain in my chest start to fade.
It was as if she was making it leave me.
I stared at her golden scales for a moment. Memorized by her beauty, I thought of something.
"Aurum," I mumbled, voice shaky. "How about Aurum as your name?"
A sense of happiness rose in my head, telling me she liked it.
"Then, from now on, your name is Aurum," I said, wiping my face.
Soon, after I collected myself, we all sat down in whatever chairs we could find around a torn-up table. There, Lord Dimmal laid out a map for us all to see. Lady Azrael sat down, resting her head on her hand as she looked at us angrily. Sir Thomas stood behind her with his hand on his sheathed sword. My father stood in the back, leaning on his bow-staff as I sat beside Lord Dimmal with the Aurum in my lap.
Lady Azrael didn't look pleased with Lord Dimmal's report of Hearthglen.
"You're telling me that Hearthglen was assaulted by a Titan Rider, one of the most powerful riders serving the King of Drakelene for almost 1000 years?" Lady Azrael said, obviously not convinced, which bothered them. "If Titan Rider did assault this city, it would've been wiped off the map, not in ruins."
"According to the two traitors we just killed, they weren't trying to destroy Hearthglen," my father rebutted. "It was to convert the riders to Omara. But the Blight showed up, and they weren't attacking the Titan rider."
Sir Thomas yelled out, "That's blasphemy! Are you saying that Omara is now siding with our sworn enemy? And is now trying to 'convert' us?"
"I don't think it's Omara that's trying to convert us," Lord Dimmal said, rubbing his chin. "Will, Gwyn, do you two know the phrase, "Give Your Will To Me?""
Give your will to me? I do know that phrase. Yesterday, on our way to the Guild, something happened I couldn't describe. Something told me those exact words. All I know is that it hurts. A lot. Like something was forcing itself upon me. In a way that can't be described. Thinking about it now, it felt like I lost all sense of myself, and something else was trying to take over, only to end up asking. But it came all at once in a very dreadful and painful way.
"I do; at some point, it felt like something just…." I thought about how to describe what I felt. "As if someone was taking control over me. But I had a choice."
"First time I've heard it outside of bed," my father chuckled. I let out a long sigh of disapproval as I could see Thomas and Azrael look at him in disgust. My father found it hilarious.
"Then that supports one of my theories," Lord Dimmal said as my father approached the table. "Last night before the Titan rider attacked, every rider and their dragon was under the influence of an unknown entity entering our minds. It told us to give our will to it, like a demand. However, we all were given a choice. The " demand" left us all in great pain, causing mass confusion. Moments later, the Titan rider arrived."
"I was wondering what happened to Will and the other dragon riders," my father added as I stroked Aurum in concern. I never thought that Aurum could've been affected. "Seems like whatever was happening was targeting you all and not the civilians."
"What are you getting at, Lord Dimmal?" Sir Thomas asked.
"Something tried to control us and sent Titan rider to do so, and only affected riders, regardless of the magic resistance we have while connected to the Dragon Force," Lord Dimmal said in a deep and serious tone as he furrowed towards Lady Azrael. "I believe a Kingdril is at work here."
"Wait, wait, wait," my father mumbled, looking at Lord Dimmal in disbelief. Hell, even I was in disbelief. "You mean a Kingdril. Like A Kingdril, Kingdril?"
"What's a Kingdril?" Lady Azrael asked, looking quite puzzled.
"How the hell do you not know what a Kingdril is," Lord Dimmal yelled out in confusion. "A Kingdril is the mark of a true King. With the power to bend reality to their will. Even the Demon Kings of the First Age all had Kingdrils."
"Hell, I even knew what it was. Sigils, Eldrils, and Kingdril all have been spoken in legends throughout time," I added on.
My father groaned in annoyance, "If the rumors are correct, Asgard has a Kingdril user, The King of Sacrifice."
"These are just rumors," Sir Thomas spoke with a tone of confidence. "Drakelene hasn't seen or dealt with anyone with a Kingdril. Sigils and Eldrils, sure. But literally, Kingdrils haven't been mentioned in these lands since the 2nd age. Why now?"
"Why? Because it ain't true, there's no way it's a Kingdril!" Lady Azrael proclaimed.
"The fact that it targeted every rider implies a powerful form of magic, Lady Azrael," Lord Dimmal proclaimed. "Either a powerful mage is involved, or we are dealing with a powerful Sigil."
"What if it is Omara," Sir Thomas said, glaring at Lord Dimmal.
Everyone went silent. The thought of Omara turning against us... well, it haunted my thoughts. She was our deity of life. Everyone in Drakelene worshiped her. I don't want to believe that she is siding with the Blight despite my not worshiping her.
"Then the Goddess has turned her back on us," Lord Dimmal said with a look of regret. "Omara is the reason why we can bond to our dragons. If she had turned against us, she would've stripped us of our dragons."
I sighed, looking back at everyone. It was obvious that no one wanted to jump to conclusions. The only thing we all knew was that the Blight attacked us.
"I have a question," I spoke up. "Regardless of what we are dealing with, why here? Why attack Hearthglen? It's a military city. Why come here?"
"Sounds like Asgard wants war," Lady Azrael said, scoffing as she rested her leg on top of the other one. "It's a good reasoning and provides them straight access throughout Drakelene."
"I didn't see any Asgardian soldiers among the Blight," Lord Dimmal said as he rubbed his chest.
I watched him do so in pity. He's probably still feeling the death of his dragon. One of the cruel fates of being a rider is that they experience each other's pain and death if I recall correctly.
"Does it matter if Asgardian soldiers show up?" Sir Thomas spoke up. "We have been at war with Asgard since the 2nd age. Seems like they've been trying to wear down our military strength ever since the last five waves of Blight."
"Asgard hasn't nor will attack Drakelene; they haven't even taken a single piece of land," my father replied. He makes a good point. Never heard of Asgard getting involved with Drakelene.
"Do you think a kingdom named The Kingdom of Slaves would be peaceful?" Lady Azrael proclaimed, speaking in a snarky tone. I do agree with what she says. "If it wasn't for our dragons and Omara, Asgard would've tried to take Drakelene."
"You don't know that," my father said, crossing his arms.
"You're calling me a liar!" Lady Azrael yelled back.
Lady Azrael stood up straight and trouted towards my father with her sword out. I stood up out of concern as she raised her blade to my father's neck. The blade was barely close, but I could see her hand trembling.
Was the sword heavy?
Sir Thomas stood behind Lady Azrael, ready to back her up as my father stood his ground, smiling. She was unhappy, sneering at him, trying to intimidate my father. As Sir Thomas readied his sword, I moved Aurum out of the way as I drew mine, aiming it at him.
"You dare, child?" Sir Thomas hissed out.
"Your move," I answered, keeping my blade aimed at him as I wrapped both hands around the handle.
I thought this was crazy. We are about to fight the royal family and their personal dog. This was a little much.
"Enough!" Lord Dimmal said, drawing us back to our senses. "We get nothing out of fighting each other right now."
Distrust was in the air, but it was clear that Thomas and Azrael trusted Lord Dimmal, but my father and I didn't trust them. The so-called princess was quick-tempered, and Sir Thomas was jumping to her side.
After a few moments, Lady Azrael lowered her sword, making Sir Thomas and me stand down. It was clear that Lady Azrael wasn't happy as she walked back over to her chair and dramatically sat down.
"Good, now we can devise a plan," Lord Dimmal said with a reluctant sigh.
Sir Thomas said, "Lady Azrael and I can fly back. It will be faster, and we can let the capital know."
"The capital is south of here," Lord Dimmal responded. "You will be flying in Blight Territory if you do."
Lord Dimmal and Sir Thomas argued as Lady Azrael sat there, almost looking out of place. A part of me thought it was just me. I looked down at Aurum scuttling around the lower floor. I could sense she was annoyed by being near all this conflict.
Before I could head over to Aurum, Sir Thomas yelled at Lord Dimmal. "Where the hell do you expect us to do?"
Looking at them again, my father commented, "I think I know what."
My father approached the table, seized a random knife that had been lodged somewhere, and chucked it at the map on the table. Where it landed made everyone go silent.
Everyone and everything was quiet, even the air went still.
"You want us to go to Asgard?" Lady Azrael asked.