Chapter 23

“Huaaaaaaaarrrrghhhhh....”

With a tremendous yawn, Victor woke up. His bestial skull pulsated with pain. A firm reminder his awful dream wasn’t over yet. His slitted eyes gazed down upon the amulet pressed against the white scales of his chest. Again did the void attempt to return.

Why can’t this nightmare end already?!, I’m not a monster… He shook his head, and forced himself off his nest. Darkness shouldn’t control him like this. It’s lies had torn him apart long enough. He swore it off yesterday, after Novekk’s talk. There was hope: Today he’d learn how to control those wicked urges. Novekk would search for a way to turn him back. All would end well, if he held on.

With a slight smile on his snout, he was prepared to learn. His trainer wasn’t here yet, though, and the brown dragon who held tonight’s sentry duty slumbered sound with his tail tip twitching, his peaceful snores were hypnotising to the soul.

But the quiet gave ample opportunity to explore this mysterious complex, There were so many questions he had, from the self-dousing torches to the odd twists and turns in the tunnels. The complex had an eerie vibe. As if some paranormal force lurked about.

Gentle, Victor walked out of his room, hoping the clicks of his claws wouldn’t wake the sentry up. His body was clumsy as it tried to sneak around on four legs. Like a giant lummox did Victor saunter forth, with the occasional glance back out of nervousness and sliding along the walls to dodge stray sleepers.

Alas, that was the easy part. The next room was a giant, dark barrack. Ten dragons slept here, all of whom had visible injuries or ailments: legs wrapped in thick bandages, twitching eyes, or saliva leaking from their jaws. Sliding along the wall wasn’t an option - potted plants lined them. Victor gulped, and got to work. He carefully stepped around stray tails and legs, a task easier said than done given the lack of light. The noxious scent of vomit haunted his nostrils. As if the task at hand wasn't difficult enough already.

Ugh, how do these creatures even survive in this disgusting haze?

“Uuurrrrgggggghh…!”

Victor froze. The dragon besides him growled in pain, and it was clear why. A glance below revealed one of Victor’s red feet crushing his tail into the hard ground. Victor bared his teeth, and sped up his pace, hoping it was a fluke, but…

“Nnnnnrgghhh...”

A second growl. Panic struck, and Victor blasted off, speeding as an arrow out of the room. Without a second thought, he dashed leftwards and hoped for the best. A turn appeared not far on the horizon. Victor picked up the pace. If he was quick on his feet, he'd lose the dragon somewhere in the tunnels..

Or that’s what the plan would’ve been. The next thing Victor knew, he lay on his side upon the cold ground, dizzy from a throbbing head. With a moan, he lifted his head back up, and met gaze with a slim, grey dragoness. Her snout revealed anger for a moment, but the frown faded a second later.

“Vykroz? Is that you? Why are you awake so early?” she said, her purple eyes twinkling with concern.

“It’s Victor, please don’t call me ‘Vykroz’. And… I was...’” Victor clicked his tongue. “I don’t know, actually.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter much. I was coming to wake you for training, anyhow. Interesting how that worked out in the end!” Merahn chuckled. “But I do wonder, why do you not wish to be called by your dragon name?”

Victor licked at his gums. “I… I don’t like being… this, in general, let alone the name,” he said, stumbling over his own words.

“But why? What isn’t there to like about the blessing? You’re far stronger than before, aren’t you?” Merahn stared at him, visibly concerned, like a mother whose child came home a few minutes after the promised time.

“Well, I never asked for any of this. All I wanted was to help out my family by earning money in a guild, and now that’s just… gone…” Victor shuddered, and rubbed his eye. His wings flicked open. “It’s like I’ve lost everything that makes me human. I keep having these beastlike urges, and they make me go insane.”

Victor lowered his head in shame. Life had gotten far too complicated. Control over himelf faded further and further, to his feeling.Bothering, prodding and insisting, his bestial urges continued on and on, until Victor couldn’t take it any longer, and added another scratch to his hide. It was all so tiresome.

Merahn laid a claw around his neck. “Don’t be such a downer, all things get better over time,” she said. Victor let his eyelids drop with a timid sigh. You get used to living without a leg too, that doesn’t mean it’s all well and good... “Come. I will teach you how to live with your instincts. Once you become the master of your blessed form, those instincts will be an extension of yourself. Besides, you don’t just want to sleep for the rest of your life, do you?” That would be an improvement over being a monster, though…

With great reservations, Victor followed Merahn through the tunnels, They passed many a lair on their peaceful journey, the sounds of either soft breathing or deafening snores coming from most. Variations of the same dragony scent streamed through the corridor, which was oddly satisfying. There wasn’t anything disagreeable yet; the dark was no issue either, thanks to his sharp eyesight.

“Well, here we are,” Merahn said.

The outhollowing they ended up in was a brown rectangle. Various target dummies were propped upright in the soft soil, all the way to the back.

“Master Merahn! Good morning!” A forest green dragon greeted Merahn as she walked in.

“Good morning Chalroth, I’d like you to meet Victor!”

“Oh, hi!” The dragon ran up to Victor’s feet, his tail swishing around with childlike wonder. From the looks of it, he wasn’t all that old. His head reached up to where Victor’s would if he were still human. “I’m Chalroth! Nice to meet you!” he said with yellow bug eyes.

“Um, hello. I’m Victor.” He scraped his cheeks with his back teeth. This… is awkward.

“Wow, you’re so red!”

“Um… thanks?” Oh, this is going to be a carriage wreck, I can feel it coming already.

The green dragon pressed his snout against Victor’s neck, and intensively sniffed it. Victor tilted his head back out of shame. This boy had yet to mature, and they had crammed his feeble mind full of propaganda.

“You smell like straws.” Chalroth’s snout twisted into a smug smile. “You sleepyhead! Hihi!”

Victor grew irritated. “Thanks, I guess. Strong words for a dwarf like you.”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” said Chalroth. “Just because I’m small doesn’t mean you can pick on me!”

“Enough of that, greenhorns. You are brothers in the same struggle, and you ought to act like it,” Merahn said. Victor rolled his eyes, then groaned. Even though she was right, it stung as an Easgandian hornet to hear where his loyalties now lay. Any chance of heading back to Ravens Hill had well and truly dwindled into a thin fog.

Chalroth sat on his hind legs, and touched his curved black horns with his frontal claws. “But Merahn, my horns are not green.”

Both the red and the grey sighed in frustration. “No, my little friend, that’s not what that means. Now stop dilly dallying, and let’s get to work,” Merahn said. She gestured with her head towards three rows of practice dummies. Their lifeless faces gave a creepy vibe, one which sent a jolt through Victor’s body. “Today, you two will be practicing melee combat. Please, sit for a moment, and allow me to give you a demonstration.”

The two greenhorns sat and watched, as Merahn readied herself by the rightmost line of dummies. “Now, our mighty bodies have natural knowledge of fighting from the moment of hatching. With little effort, we can slaughter as we please. Simply allow your instincts to envelop you, and strike true. Watch.”

As lightning, Merahn pounced. Her claws struck true, and the first dummy was slammed into the ground. With a growl, she launched herself down the column, all the way to the final dummy. As she towered over her fifth prey, she clamped her jaws down on a small cushion by the throat, and ripped it apart. Feathers scattered about the soft dirt. Victor cringed. Her speed shocked the most; one eye blink, and she was halfway across.This was no ordinary predator at work, but a killing machine: Cold. Fast. Anything except human.

“Now then, my students. Time for you to do likewise. You’ve seen me do it, and now you get to practice for yourself. Ready yourselves!”

Victor gulped down saliva, and slowly stepped up to the starting position. Next to him, Chalroth did likewise. Victor readied himself, his limbs shaking. It became quiet enough to hear a pin drop, as the two awaited Merahn’s signal. But something ominous stirred within Victor. His veins surged with energy, and he imagined throwing himself upon those dummies, once the signal sounded.

“GO!”

A furious growl reached Victor’s ears, and he lunged at his target. His claws made their mark, and slammed the pathetic victim into the dirt. Like wildfire, he sprung forth. A primal satisfaction stirred within him, as he created victim upon victim. Target two fell shortly thereafter, three and four followed right behind. It was as if he were floating, quick and elegant as a practiced routine.

Finally, his claws reached the fifth dummy, and he crashed with it onto the soft dirt. His claws pressed onto his victim’s shoulders, keeping it pinned in place. Its throat lay bare. The dummy's face, with its dotted eyes and wide smile, was like a young conscript, who had accepted his fate, and now waited for the end.

Victor froze in a flash. That face brought back so many memories. People he worked with, people he met during his patrols in Ravens Hill, and his best friends. In the face’s stead, he pictured them. And he towered over them as the monster he had become, ready to send them to an early grave.

No... no… I can’t do this.

With a heavy heart, he sank upon his belly. Once again, he had been tricked. Merahn let his urges run rampant. This never was about control. All this time, it had been about drowning him in his own blood thirst. With a sob, he pressed this tip of his snout into the pale face. The cure, having control, it was all too good to be true.

A crash sounded next to him, as Chalroth lunged at his final target. He didn’t hesitate to yank out the cushion, sending tiny feathers flying. Victor stared off into the distance with his body curled protectively around the dummy. Emptiness replaced willpower within him, beyond a will to yank the scales out of his skin.

Just put me out of my misery already, gods. An eternity in the abyss is nothing compared to this.

“Both of you struggle still, it looks like,” Merahn said. “Chalroth, you are still far too slow, but you have improved since the last time. Good work, my little friend.”

“Wow, thank you Master Merahn!”

Merahn grunted. “As for you, Victor… what are you doing? Get over here, please.” Victor responded with a defiant shake of his head. “Ugh, you bastard son! What is the meaning of this? Get over here, or I’ll drag you by the tail if I need to!” she yelled.

“I’m fine over here,” Victor said sheepishly. A lie, of course: that energysucking void kept Victor snug as a bug in his emotional nadir, and with it lingered the ever so sweet idea of freeing himself from this scaly prison.

“Fine. Have it your way, then.” Merahn stomped her way towards Victor, and grabbed him by the shoulder. “What’s gotten into you? You started off so well! Your technique was perfect, and your speed was marvelous. Then you stopped at the very last moment. Why?”

Tears trickled out of Victor’s eyes. “Why are you making me do these horrible things? I don’t want to hurt people.” He frowned as he let out a large sob, the frustration clear in his sharp blue eyes. “You said you’d teach me how to control these urges, and instead you’re turning into a monster!”

“Listen, you great red coward! Cry all you like about it, you’re a dragon now. And nothing will change that. Either start acting like one, or get out of here!” Merahn bared her teeth.

Finally. Victor forced his lips into a smile, and stood back up. “Show me the exit, and I will be happy to leave. Wouldn’t want me to loiter about here, do you?” he spat towards Merahn. His veins flared with energy. It felt good to strike back at his torturer. She wouldn’t convert him any time soon.

Chalroth cowered in a corner, begging for the two to stop. But it was no use. “Are you serious? Your cowardly arse cries whenever you're given meat, let alone having to hunt for it! You wouldn’t last more than a day outside of here, you spineless waste of life! Have fun dying of starvation out there!”

“At least I'll die with my dignity intact, unlike you cultist vermin!”

Merahn hissed in anger. “Don't you dare talk bad about Divinity, you godless-”

“Guys, guys!!” A small dragon darted into the room. His shaky wings and wide open eyes revealed deep-seethed stress. “You, you need, to come,” he said, before his head dropped from exhaustion.

“What is it, you fool? We’re busy here,” Merahn said.

“The base, the base is under attack, there’s imperials storming, the entrance as we speak,” the dragon heaved out.

Merahn gasped. “Then we will slay them all!” she shouted. “Come now, my students, let’s fight this filth! And you better not try to run, you big red coward! You’ll see the glory of dragonhood for yourself!” She ran towards Chalroth, and gestured for him to follow. Both left the room, leaving Victor in the dust. The messenger's panting and heaving worsened. Victor dragged him by the forelegs onto a soft cushion by the entrance, and left him to recover.

Victor pursued the two. After all, they were headed for the entrance, his escape route. Soon, he'd be free. All it took was a quick dash to the entrance, or a sword in his pale chest, or an arrow in the head.

After following Chalroth’s scent he ended up in the main temple. Several dragons faced off against a force of seventy men, who had them surrounded on the altar. Three dragons Victor didn’t recognize lay dead behind the men, their eyes glassy and drained of color. The air was tense, and reeked of a thick smoke which poured from a metal object lying at the feet of the troops.

“CHAAAARGE!”

Their battle cries raised,, the men stormed up the altar from two sides. Three dragons held each side, and prepared for a fight to the death. Their roars thundered in the heavenly heights of the temple.

“TIME TO DIE, IMPERIAL DOGS!” Merahn roared, as she threw herself straight at the troops. In an eyeblink, a heroic charge turned into a fatal error. The men at the top fell under the claws of the defenders, their bodies sending those behind tumbling down the stairs. The grey dragoness grew a wicked grin as she tore through soldier after soldier with no remorse. She delighted in the blood and screams of these poor conscripts, as their bodies hit the ground one after the other.

The remnants of the attackers retreated to the door before the charge became a total debacle. Some twenty of them didn’t make it, either they died or pretended to be dead under their fallen brethren. Other dragons joined the battle : there now ran a defensive line across the altar. Victor positioned himself on the far left side; four young men faced him, fear visible on their faces. His ears caught wind of frightful talk.

“How many of them are there?!”

“I don’t know… we’re going to die, aren’t we?”

“No, Johnson. Stay focused, we… we might have a chance.”

“They sent us here to die.”

“Where are our reinforcements?! The 37th was meant to be here with us!”

Victor breathed in deep, and found himself overwhelmed by the scent of blood and fear. The defense line closed in on the frightened attackers. If the door hadn’t been forced shut by one of the priests, those poor young souls would have ran for their lives.

The dragons next to him growled menacingly, no doubt because of his dead brothers lying with split bellies over the marble floor. The desire for revenge couldn’t be made clearer, and Victor was terrified of the bloodbath that was to ensue. He faced the the men before him. Their lives and dreams, their happy families, all would be lost.

No… not if I get anything to say!

His ears went flat, and his mind focused with a deep breath. As a light breeze brushed past, he threw himself forward. His claws struck true, and the first victim fell. He gave the side of his head a quick tap with the back of his talons, and pounced onto the next victim, to which he did the same. The other two stared terrified into his predatory eyes, like a gust of a hurricane he took them both down.

He breathed out. The others had attacked with him, and screams filled the air as they took their time tearing into the men. By now, the survivors had dropped to their knees, whimpering with their hands raised. One in front of him still stood, arms violently shaking as Merahn savaged the poor kid in front of him. Victor jumped into action, and knocked him cold with a headbutt a second later.

“We surrender, we surrender! P-please have m-mercy on us!” one of the kneelers cried out. A cacophony of laughter sounded in response.

“Haha! You think we’ll let you live, after your crimes against Divinity? I’m going to have so much fun slaughtering you!” chortled one of the dragons. “And the best part? You deserve-”

“Leave the talking to me.”

Heads on both sides turned. Lothar’s booming voice thundered, and woe upon those who ignored it. The dragons in the middle cleared a path, as the golden dragon made his way towards the battle with slow, firm steps. He was met by terrified gazes.

“Men of the imperial army… You have come to these hallowed halls, with intent to slay those dwelling within. You stand against Divinity, and freedom. Tell us why we should accept your surrender.”

The men huddled together, and nervously whispered in one another's ears. No one had any idea what to say. Most admitted to being little more than conscripts. There were some familiar faces within the crowd however, who talked about a righteous struggle against ‘the dragon cult’.

I know these people, I’m sure of it. Victor squinted his eyes, and felt a sharp sting in his heart when he spotted Civil Defense medallions pinned to chests. These were people he called friend a few weeks ago, and now they stood on opposing sides. A sharp guilt tied a knot in his stomach.

“My lord, can we kill them al-”

“Quiet.”

Lothar tapped a talon on the marble, his gaze as stern as ever. “Well then, men. Have you found your answer?” he asked. A wave of silence met him. Whether it were lips being bitten, or ragged gasps, or shivering, fear reigned amidst the men. Fear of the golden behemoth’s fury, something Victor was all too familiar with.

“We… we don’t know, s-sir,” one of the men replied. “I was p-promised a reward for doing this.”

“Doing what, hmm?” Lothar leaned forwards, and tilted his head. Terrified gasps raised Victor's pointy ears; by now, everyone trembled on their knees.

“T-taking up a-arms against y-you!” one of the men heaved out in between gasps.

“How unfortunate.” Lothar pulled back his head. “It appears you have fallen for imperial propaganda. What a terrible, terrible shame. Young men such as yourselves should be inspired to support Divinity, not take up arms against it.”

“W-what are you going to do with us?”

“Hmm.” Lothar closed his eyes to think. “Once I was as foolish as you, and had people executed for lesser crimes. But I have grown wiser since then, thanks to experience.” His eyes flicked leftwards for a split second. “I believe there is good in everyone. And as such, you will remain here to learn of the truth. Promise me that you will be open minded and receptive to what we have to say. Does this sound fair?”

“Y-yes sir…”

“Good. After you lay down your arms, I will escort you to the holding area. My brothers and sisters, please prepare the dead for burial, dragon and human alike. In addition, bring the injured to the holding area. We can treat them for their injuries there.”

“Yes, my lord!”

After the men were escorted out by Lothar, the dragons got to work giving the dead a proper farewell, human and dragon alike. Straight away, there were problems. Some dragons played with human bodies, ripping off limbs or clawing at their chest, then rolling in the resulting pool of blood. Naturally, this caused significant distress amidst the reasonable, who’d scold them for their actions. Soon enough it escalated into verbal abuse, complete with pushes and shoving.

Victor ignored the commotion, and dragged his own victims to safety. There, he nervously pressed his ear against their chests. Thankfully, all five of them had a healthy heartbeat.With the help of a dragoness kind enough to lend him her claw, he brought them to the holding area, where a yellow scaled doctor was all too happy to receive them.

“Oh, thank you so much for bringing them to me! I’ll make sure they’ll turn out well.”

“No problem. Please, don’t harm them. They did nothing wrong.”

“Don’t you worry about that, little Lothar! Have a pleasant day!”

“I will.” Victor smirked.

* * * With a smile on his face, Victor returned to his makeshift bed in the sick bay. He was delighted. People survived to see another day, thanks to him. Even when carrying the flesh of a monster, he could do good, and that was a refreshing realisation unlike any other. No longer did he wish to hurt himself, or run - He could steer these creatures back towards the light. If he was capable of it, so were the others.

The glint of his amulet seared into his eyes as he entered his room. Ugh, did I really forget to put that on? With a grunt, he grasped the little trinket with a claw and hung it around his long neck. In a way, that amulet made him complete. Everything else from his old appearance had been lost or damaged, but not the amulet. Satisfied, he sank onto his nest to the sound of clicking talons.

“Son?” Lothar peered into the room. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, father. I’m fine,” Victor nodded.

Lothar calmly strolled up to Victor’s feet. “Thank goodness. I saw you amidst the battle, and became worried. Divinity knows what I would have done had they laid a finger upon you. Did everything turn out well in the end?”

“I suppose it did. You know, I’ve been worrying myself sick about losing control over myself, but…” Victor paused to breathe, before continuing. “I didn’t feel my instincts struggle at all during the battle, even when attacking.”

With a grunt, Lothar lowered his head. “Now then, did anything go wrong whilst you attacked, my child?”

“Not at all,” Victor said, shaking his head. “I knocked five of them out, and never went any further than that. I didn’t want to harm them at all, and no urge or impulse got in the way of that, strangely enough.”

“It appears that you are empathetic at heart,” Lothar said. “I’m proud of you, my angel. Alas, many of our brethren have harbored a deep resentment towards the imperials, and are all too happy to unleash that anger upon them. But you are above that, thankfully.”

Victor groaned. “I don’t know, I think it might have been a fluke.” He wasn’t sure of himself, and licked at his sharp teeth and gums as a result.

“My son, have no fear. I will explain it all to you later, but I have an urgent meeting that requires every grain of my attention. Please, do not trouble yourself over it, and allow your body and soul to unwind.”

“Yes, father.”

“Farewell for now. I love you, my angel.” Lothar smiled.

“I love you too, father.”

With his father out of the picture, Victor took a short nap. Upon awakening, he headed for the holding area. Something within compelled him to check up on the prisoners, a strange sense of responsibility. The thought of something terrible happening to them didn’t help matters. He had to be there, or else.

The holding area, a large rectangular pit surrounded by cave walls and a constructed wall, had been populated with some thirty prisoners of war. Conditions were terrible: Food and water were scarce, no place to sleep beyond a wafer thin red carpet, and they had no way of relieving themselves beyond a pit dug in the ground.

Victor shook his head. Oh gods, those poor men… His heart ached for the prisoners. This was their life until the war’s end; stuck in abominable conditions, with the lone way out under watch all day and night. The men themselves appeared ill, given their sunken faces and shell shocked eyes. They had seen things no man was meant to see.

Then, Victor’s eyes caught wind of a young man with blond hair, teenagerlike in appearance, sulking by himself against the wall. His heart sank in an instant. It had been under a month, yet it felt as if years have passed since he last saw that face. Without a second thought, he flung himself over the wall. There wasn’t a chance in the abyss this wasn’t who he believed it was.

William?