Chapter 18

“My lord… I never expected you to do such a vile act, let alone to be the first...”

Incense and stress hung in Lothar’s lair. Moments earlier, he had returned home with his long lost son. The lone family member he had left. It had been a close call; The Triumph’s survivors of the Triumph had poisoned him through arrow, and planned to murder him as they had done with his wife and daughter. In retaliation, he killed them. Slaughtered, mauled, eaten them alive. No one would hurt his family and live to tell the tale.

Afterwards, he hugged his unconscious son, and flew back home with his son in his claws. Victor had to receive the blessing now. He couldn’t die, the thought came as a stab to Lothar’s heart. Not his son. Anyone but his son. He snuck him to Novekk, who promised to keep the whole debacle a secret, and take care of his son. Alas, Raghes caught him in the act. From the blood on Lothar’s mouth alone, the blue dragon knew what had happened.

“Raghes, I swear from the bottom of my heart, I did not mean for things to end up like this.”

The blue dragon shook his head. “I don’t believe you. You’re always nose deep into religious matters. If there’s anyone who knows how reprehensible the sin of eating someone is, it’s you, Lothar.” He rasped a breath between his teeth. “And not just anyone, but people who trusted us!”

“But my son, I couldn’t lose my son,” Lothar blurted out. He had little else to defend himself with. He had already earned the blue dragon’s scorn after vomiting out what remained of Lyndrer. Raghes broke into tears when he saw what Lothar had done to the poor kid, and set what little of his body was left on fire. If news of this spread any further, it would be a disaster.

“Yes, Lothar. You told me a dozen times already. But why? How could you do something so reprehensible? Even to protect your son, how could you?” Raghes’ eyes sparkled in the torchlight. “That young man, he loved us. He trusted us, he was one of us, and you devoured him whole. And you did it in front of your own child!”

“No, quiet you!” shouted Lothar. His tail wildly lashed into the walls and over his nest, sending straws flying. “You will not defile the name of my son, nor will you blame him for my actions! He wasn’t conscious to see any of it, those cretins had poisoned him!” He spread his wings and held his ridged back up straight, ready to pounce if needed be.

Raghes stepped backwards. “What is the meaning of this? I never even insinuated that your son was to blame, you fool! In fact, I agree with your decision to protect him, believe it or not. But you know precisely what my anger is aimed at. I’ve told the whole council before, you included: NO. SAVAGERY! And that’s what you did, unless the blood smeared over your ravenous maw is a tongue bite gone wrong!”

Lothar growled, and sank on the dirt next to his overturned nest. “Leave me be. Now.” The longer the confrontation went on, the burning anger in Lothar’s veins flared ever stronger. Novekk could walk in to announce his son’s waking at any moment, “I will repent on my own time, something I will not be needing you for. And if I discover that you have spread word of this...”

“Fine, have it your way,” Raghes said, turning tail and walking nonchalantly out of the lair.

At last, Lothar had time to rest. Enough shouting and arguing, Divinity almighty had it worn on him. His bones ached as if they had aged threefold in the span of a few minutes, and all his scales sat uncomfortable on his skin, as if they had been glued on, and weren’t a natural part of his mighty form. It likely was Divinity’s punishment for his grave sin. He crawled to his shrine, and sparked the fire.

“Forgive me, great Divinity. I beg for your mercy, and I beg for your forgiveness...”

Already he felt better. The euphoria was a refreshing breeze for the mind, a reward for paying his respects. He expressed his gratitude, and doused the fire. Then, something glinted in the corner of his eyes, the posession he cherished most of all: Half of a medal made out of pristine silver, a reward bestowed upon him by the king for his loyal service. Of course, the other half was with his son, ever since that fateful day.

It never had left him for a solitary moment, the events of that night. The Justitian armies had cracked the walls, and stormed the capital. The king was slain in the brutal fighting that ensued, and the members of the cabinet and high ranking military members were executed when the Justitians got their grubby fingers on them. He was one of the few who escaped the onslaught.

Had it not been for Divinity’s guidance, he would have been a skeleton populating the numerous mass graves dug that night. The call sounded to flee westwards, to the Origin Mountains. Only the devoted were given this instruction; nobody else. Not even their families were allowed to come. Thus, Lothar bid his goodbye, leaving half of the medal with his son. Not once throughout the harsh years of exile had he forgotten about them. One glance at that medallion granted him strength.

But now, there was a hint of melancholy in the air as he lifted the silver piece up to his nose. His son was all that’s left. With heavy eyes, he sank onto his nest, and waited.

Novekk… don’t keep me waiting…

* * *

“Nnnghh...”

Slowly, the black void shrouding Victor dissipated. At first, there was a soft groan, a simple sound that interrupted the silence. Crackling flames, and a quiet conversation between two throatry voices followed. On the surface, it wasn’t much. But for Victor, it was a reaffirmation that he still lived after a plummet into the abyss.

His senses returned to him rapidly now. The smells of flowers, smoke and a mishmash of various plants, in addition to something unfamiliar danced in his nostrils. His eyes pried open a little, and fell back again when overwhelmed with a surge of torchlight. His clothes were soft, and he was wrapped in a nice, warm blanket. The floor too was smooth to the touch, a far cry from the rocky ground he passed out on. It was as if he had reached the heavens themselves. Then his body truly woke up.

“Uuaaaargh!!”

Within a flash, his leg stung with the fury of a hundred suns beaming down upon Terris. His eyes snapped shut, as he gasped for breath. The pain was a taste of hell itself, shooting up into his spine, into his organs, into his veins. As if boiling oil had been poured into his bloodstream.Perhaps the dragon had eaten after all, and this was the stomach juice doing its morbid work.

“Oh, nonono, that wasn’t the right mixture. Far too strong. Ohh Novekk, you silly goose, you.”

Out of nowhere came a voice. Far throatier than any other voice Victor had ever heard, yet it was warm and sweet. Alas, that voice was nothing to the horrific pain burning up his body. Heaving and rasping, death would have been a blessing.

“Here… try this out, my little friend.”

A sharp, warm hand pressed softly against Victor’s left cheek, and a small bowl was put at his lips. Next thing he knew, he drank an odd concoction. It tasted absolutely foul. He wanted to spit it out, but that he was too weak for. Everything from the awful taste to the disgusting way it flowed down his throat was repulsive. Fortunately, there wasn’t much of it.

“There, how’s that feel?”

The hand lifted off of his cheek, and moved to his chest, where it was joined by a second, equally sharp-fingered hand after it had put the bowl away. Victor’s breathing softened back to its regular rhythm. In a flash, the pain had disappeared. Weakness still reigned in his limbs, but the stomach acid-like burning had faded into history. The sharp light had dimmed. His eyes opened with ease… to the sight of a pitch black dragon with six horns, staring at him with demonic red eyes.

“Ahh, you’re finally with us!”

Victor’s heart skipped a beat. He screamed out with the force of a lightning strike, lashing and thrashing with his arms at the vicious monster. The beast lifted its claws from his chest, and bared its razor sharp teeth at him with big eyes. Victor shuffled further and further backwards in the bed, desperate to escape from this nightmarish creature towering over him.

Then, the soft surface of the blankets disappeared all of a sudden. Within the blink of an eye, Victor crashed out of the bed, and fell back first onto a solid, rocky floor. His head struck a pebble; pain bored into his skull, and drained him of whatever strength he had. All he could do was watch and utter faint cries for help, as the black dragon leaned over his body. A smile was printed on the beast’s snout.

“Please, don’t panic, you’re still a bit weak and you might hurt yourself. I don’t want to harm you.”

The dragon lifted Victor up with his frontal claws, and rolled him back into the blankets. With two of his talons, he stroked his cheeks. Victor shivered and heaved. Here he was, alone in a cave with a dragon. A creature feared and reviled for their bloodlust and savagery, one of the creatures that murdered his friends. And yet, it treated him with the utmost kindness any creature was capable of. As if it were a friend.

“There… rest easy now. I know you’ve been suffering terribly these last few days, and I’m sorry for all that you’ve gone through, but it is over now. You’re safe here, I promise.” The dragon gently placed a claw on his chest, and lowered his head to Victor’s level. “Lord Lothar will be happy to see you awake. He’s been worried sick about you ever since he’s brought you here. I will have him here in a moment, okay? Just wait here.”

The dragon raised himself to all fours, and walked out of the room, his tail swishing back and forth. The ticks of his claws softened, then disappeared altogether. Victor slid further into his blankets. It was silent, barring the peaceful rumbling of someone’s slumber. Plants and flowers grew on patches of dirt by the walls basked in torchlight, emitting their pleasant and clean aromas into the world. Planks hung on the wall, medical equipment strewn upon them. It was a hospital of sorts, but one intended for dragons, not humans.

What is this place? Who built all this?

Victor stared at his own body. The blankets wrapped around his body were soft and colorful, their bright blue and gold meshing well together. It gave off a lavish vibe, not at all something one associates with a hospital bed. The blankets ran up to his armpits, where they gave way to a white, woolen shirt.

Wait, what is this? Where did my armor go? And where is my sword?!

He hadn’t noticed until now that his leather tunic and sword were gone. Victor examined every nook and cranny from his bed, but they weren’t in sight. They had disarmed him. His amulet still hung around his neck, but that was it. He was defenseless. What if that black dragon had fronted, so that he’d lower his guard? Chances were that danger crept upon him fast.

Those worries were put to the test soon after, for the ticking sounds returned; this time far quicker, and accompanied by the sounds of heavy breathing. Victor braced for the worst. Then, a massive golden dragon with a regal horned head rushed into the room and slammed his claws on the ground, sending dirt flying as he came to a quick stop. The same golden dragon from earlier.

He panted for a brief moment, and lifted his head towards Victor. His eyes widened; both quivered as they recognized each other. The dragon opened his jaws with a massive, joyous smile, his breaths revealing his excitement. Victor quivered and sunk deeper into his blankets, desperate for a hiding spot.

“Oh, oh Divinity, thank goodness you’re okay, son!” the dragon said. His eyes glistered in the torchlight, as he stepped closer towards Victor, who shrunk back to the edge of his bed.

“G-get away from me, monster! What have I ever done to you?” Victor said, stumbling over his own words. He bit his tongue by accident, and yelped loudly. The iron taste of blood ran over his tongue moments thereafter.

“Son, are you okay? Yes, you are, thank goodness again. I cannot lose you now, not ever-”

“What are you talking about, you vicious cretin? ‘Son’? I’m not your son, beast! I didn’t crawl out of the abyss like your ilk has!” Like a cornered animal, Victor went on a tirade against the beast. A final act of defiance, rather than any sort of heroic last stand; he wasn’t going to resign himself to a painful death in that monster’s stomach. Not that easily.

“No, son,” the golden dragon said, “you don’t understand. Please, give me a chance, I can explain everything.”

“You lie!” Victor screamed, “You want to kill me, just like you killed your friends. Just like you killed my friends. Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to deserve-”

“Son… look,” The dragon somberly replied. He opened up his claw a meter away from Victor. In the palm lay half of a beautiful silver medallion. The other piece of the amulet hanging from his neck.

“See? It is me, your father.” The dragon gazed with hope into his eyes. “I know it is hard to believe, given what has happened to me, but it is really me.” Victor stared at it for some time, utterly dumbfounded.

No… this isn’t true, I know it isn’t. How did this dragon end up with that piece?

He glanced at the medallion piece again. Together, both pieces would form the old Lokahnian coat of arms, the twin swords clashing on Victor’s piece, and the twin fire spewing dragons on the other. He searched and searched, looking for any sort of imperfection or oddity that would reveal the lie. The dragon continued to stare with increasing uncertainty.

But there was no lie, no deceit or foul trickery at play. The piece matched his own perfectly. Victor searched in the pits of his mind for other explanations. Dragons have sharp eyesight, something he learned from Roderick on the way back to Ravens Hill. Perhaps his father had dropped it, and the beast found it and took it for himself. The beast could have extorted his father for it, or found it on his corpse, or outright have chosen to murder his poor father for the piece.

And then, it dawned on him, and the mirror of reality shattered apart into thousands of tiny shards.

No... NOOO!

Victor burst into the most soul crushing, bansheelike screams ever unleashed. He himself wasn’t aware of anything anymore; it was as if the world had crumbled around him, and all that remained was himself being consumed by darkness. The torches flickered and wavered. The golden dragon gasped and stared on in horror, as his son screamed and screamed.

The air in his lungs ran out. Victor’s head drooped downwards, and he slowly craned it back up to face the dragon... The butcherer of his family. “Monster…. Monster!! MONSTER!!!”

“V-victor, my son, what is wrong?” the dragon panicked. His own fear lay exposed on his snout; evidently he hadn’t thought his supposed son capable of this.

“You came here to finish the job, haven’t you? After you’ve slain my father and ordered my mother and sister and friends dead, haven’t you?”

“NO! I never ordered such a thing, I would NEVER hurt my own family! Victor I swear it’s me, believe me!” the dragon said. His slitted amber eyes welled up with tears, and for a moment Victor believed them genuine, before his senses returned to him.

“What are you waiting for? Kill me then.” Victor lifted his shaking hands to his neck, and raised his head. He placed his hands and gestured at his throat. “Do it then. You can either reunite me with my family… or spit my father out! Which will it be? HURRY UP!” he yelled, saliva flying out of his mouth, onto the dragon’s claws.

The golden dragon’s body quaked. Tears streamed down his scaled face, leaving glistering trails in their wake. He appeared so injured, so fatally struck by Victor’s words, as if they were arrows that had pierced his heart. He hacked up a few sputtering whines, before turning tail and dashing out of the room as fast as he could, dragging his tail on the ground.

Bastard...