Chapter 2:
“14000 drageems in damage, Darko.” Sodo said.
Darko was sitting at the base of his bed chambers, it was late, and Sodo had just gotten the bill for what his dragon had done.
“I – I didn’t know he did that much damage.” Darko stammered, truly surprised.
Fercius was barely bigger than him; in fact, the saddle they had for him was just a slightly modified version of what would be fitted on a horse.
“What are you going to do about it?” Sodo asked.
“I don’t know, father. We knew from the day we found him that he’d be one of a kind.”
“A dragon that cannot breathe fire is of no use to us if we’re attacked from afar. What if another squadron engages us at range – head butting charge?” Sodo asked rhetorically, chuckling at the thought.
“Regardless… I believe we should take advantage of Fercius’ melee capabilities. Perhaps transfer him to the third aerial?”
Sodo looked at him as if he had just told a bad joke, “No. Those dragons have been through years of training in formation flying and melee combat… he’d get eaten alive – literally! Half of them have been in the war of Sedon.”
“Yes they may be fierce, but – I don’t know. It’s up to you father.”
“It’s your dragon; do with him as you please.”
So then Darko was hit with a dilemma.
I can’t possibly make a decision like this with my experiences alone.
… So he was off to find his dragon. He had to go to the Apalene Mountains of Seleene, where he would speak to the legendary Xiu Wei about Fercius’ abilities. It was he who had initially hinted towards there being a powerful dragon up in the northern hemisphere.
But before he could do any of that… he still had to find him.
Where the hell is he? Darko thought. If I were a dragon… where would I go?
Naturally, the barracks were the first place he checked. Any dragon was free to sleep there, regardless of rank, but of course, the barracks were clear of Fercius, and the soldiers standing guard outside told him they hadn’t seen Fercius around anywhere near here.
Hours passed as Darko walked along the city perimeter, asking the guards if they had seen his dragon.
Where could he be? Darko thought. It might be for the best, though.
The farther he walked, the more inconvenient the idea sounded. It was true – however – that tomorrow they were given a break from training. But it did not mean that he should tire his dragon out so. But then again, if he joined the third aerial, he’d be in for far more fatigue than what they’d experience tonight, if they went, of course.
A burst of fire illuminated a house far to the south. It came from the church.
“Hmm,” Darko said to himself, “for once his nightmares are of good use to us.”
“Should we scramble the troops – are we under attack sir?” The soldier was already reaching for his hilt and taking a step towards the blast, squinting to get a closer look.
Darko chuckled and raised his hand out to shush the soldier. “No and no. Tell King Sodo that I won’t be coming back for a few days.”
And off he went to the church. He was barely able to see Fercius, lying up against the western walls. Perhaps it was an instinct of his? To pull up against something that shares his colors? Darko hoped his sudden appearance wouldn’t startle him, and he gently nudged the dragon awake.
Fercius appeared dazed at first, completely unaware of what was going on, but after a few minutes of talking to him and getting geared up, Fercy finally got the gist of it – at least Darko hoped he did.
Fercius was geared up in no time, and they began to soar, hours of travel passing as they flew from tree line to tree line. Darko couldn’t even recall the last time they had ever flown for this long, but he knew it was worth it. They had to meet Mr. Wei; he was the person who most deserved to take part in this decision, and he was the only person – Darko believed – who could truly make such a decision.
“Hang in there Fercy.” Darko said, patting him just behind the horns.
They had quite a marathon to fly today, and they were only halfway there, not only that, but now they were forced to gain altitude as they ascended up to the mountains of Seleene. The tree line was soon replaced by the clouds, and finally they could both see the Apalene Mountains. They had been flying for well over two hours now, nearing the third, when they were close enough to the mountain trail to see it spiraling upwards. They could see the path that had been carved by endless caravans, when suddenly Fercy’s wings gave way and they came crashing down onto the path. Darko was thrown several meters, landing face first into the grass by the path. As he stared at the mountain wall, he was furious, knowing they still had at least a kilometer to travel vertically. But as he turned around, he saw the poor dragon, bruised from the fall and panting from the flight. His wings were battered, laid along the path, and too overused to move another inch. There wasn’t much Darko could do, so he just sat down and sighed, not knowing whether to be proud of the ground they covered or weary of the journey they had ahead of them. The full moon was their only source of light, and Darko could hear a wolf howling in the distance.
“Can I help you sir?”
The voice sounded old and raspy, startling Darko. His hand was over his sword’s hilt as he responded.
“Perhaps you can. Do you happen to have any lodgings nearby? We’d like a few hours rest.”
“I have a house a few minutes up, as well as a barn I haven’t used for months, I’m sure the dragon could find comfort among the hay.”
Darko nodded, taking his exhausted dragon by the reigns and walking him up the path slowly.
“Your hospitality will not be forgotten… um…”
“Foreli.” the old man answered. “And I think I know who you are, carrying the Royal Sword of Sedonii. It is an honor to meet you Darko of Sodo, but forgive me for asking, but I’m wondering why you decided to travel up atop the mountains this late? Would it not be safer in the Coalition Palace?”
“Perhaps, but I have urgent business to attend to at Xiu Wei’s castle.”
“Ah Xiu Wei, I know him well, he travels along these paths often. Did you know he captured a new dragon?”
“Really, what kind?”
“Vulcan.”
Vulcan dragons were very rare, preferring to live in the heat of volcanic environments than in the chill of the mountains. But, as any other species of dragons, they were very adaptive and resilient to change. Most had very long ears, capable of hearing things beyond the ambience, even if the ambience was bubbling lava trapped in volcanic rock.
By the time they had finished talking about his new dragon; they had already traveled the distance needed, and were in range of the barn and houses.
“Your dragon’s free to travel anywhere but to the stables, I don’t want him scaring the horses.” said the old man.
“Of course,” Darko said, “I’m sure Fercy understands.”
There was a small bag mounted behind the shield atop Fercy’s horns. Darko kept most of his vital assets in that bag, and grabbed it now, taking it into the old man’s house.
“The bathrooms are on the second floor, first door to the left. Your room is right down the hall, last door.”
“How much?” Darko asked.
“Free, of course. I wouldn’t wish to inconvenience you.”
“I will give you 50 drageems.”
The old man was astonished.
“But that’s enough for a whole moon’s stay. I thank you.”
“Think nothing of it.” Darko said, smiling.
People always said that Darko was overly generous to the lower class, and perhaps it was true most of the time. But this old man had given him and his dragon safe lodging. It was already well past midnight, and the sun would come up soon.
The empty barn wasn’t that empty anymore, with Fercy trying to get the saddle off his back so he could get a good night’s sleep.
“Let me help you with that.” Darko said, removing the saddle and shield strap. “Have a good night Fercy, we’ll move out when that sundial hits noon.”
He then pointed to the stick embedded on a wooden stump a few meters away. Noon was marked with a sun, whilst evening was marked with a half-moon.
It was Darko’s turn to get ready for bed now, but as he entered his chambers he was amazed by the size he was given for a single man. There was one big bed, big enough to fit an entire family. Hoping the old man wouldn’t mind, he took the first door to his right, seeing it was unlocked, and laid down there. He preferred efficiency over extravagance, and knew that these chambers would be more than enough for the night. He placed his boots on the table that had been set up against the wall, and put his light armor in the closet that shared the same wall as the bed. His sword – the sacred sword, he placed just under the bed, with the handle protruding from the shadows slightly.
Better safe than sorry. He thought to himself. As he lay down, he was surprised to feel how relieved his body became, riding a dragon might look easy, but it took more than just knowing how to sit on a chair. In fact, he had ridden horses for six years before being given even the chance to sit on a dragon. He remembered that day well – when he got his very first dragon. Of course it happened the moment he was given the rank of Lancer due to his prestige, but he still chose the smallest and weakest dragon he saw among the training guild, preferring to train up someone that really needed the boost in morale than a dominant alpha.
“Polaris.” Darko whispered, knowing the name well, given to his first dragon namely due to the color of his skin.
Where Fercius’ variant of Arctic dragon was a light blue with streaks of dark blue along his sides and a nearing gray underside, Polaris was deathly white and very noticeable among the ranks.
“It’s a damn shame I incinerated him, isn’t it?” said a voice Darko knew too well.
He could recognize that sinister voice from anywhere, and immediately hopped out of bed. He was wearing the same lancer uniform he had worn the day Polaris died, and his sword was already sheathed and attached to his belt. At the time, it all made perfect sense to him, even as he looked at the mage that had said those piercing but true words, and as he sliced the mage with his sword, he sliced him with his own words as well.
“It’s a damn shame you didn’t aim a little higher you bastard.”
He sliced the mage again, but instead of his sword being stained with the mage’s blood, it was being stained by the colors of the coalition they fought during the war of Sedon. The pearl blue blade was contaminated with red and black and the contamination continued.
He was now riding a massive combat dragon.
A Vulcan dragon.
The General’s dragon.
Darko remembered his father’s epic duel against the General of the invading army, but here he was now, fighting his father, killing him.
“Perhaps that’s how you wish it had been!” Darko yelled. “But it’s over, you lost, accept it!”
The sound of his own voice awoke him, and he immediately sat up, sweating profusely from the dream.
I hope I didn’t wake up the whole lodge.
But it appeared that something had already done that for him, for he heard the crackling of a fire outside and the sound of terrified horses.
And then he saw him, mounted on a horse armored to the hoof, its armor painted with the colors of the invaders they had defeated years ago.
Red and Black.
It was their color and their name. Only the R and B knew what it meant, and others were left to speculate.
“He’s in there.” said the old man.
Darko swiftly got out of his bed and drew his sword from under the bed, defensively postured in the door’s general direction. He would fight them head on, even if he was only in his undergarments.
But then again… the door that the old man led them to was the room he had believed he had slept in, but this was in fact a very different room.
“Liar!” boomed the Mage’s voice, “I don’t see him anywhere!”
“But I – I swear, he must have moved! Check the other chambers!”
By the time the Mage’s men battered Darko’s chamber door open, he was gone, having taken all of his equipment with him.
The first thing he saw was the fire – Fercy had had another nightmare, and the R and B were trying to squelch the flames before capturing his dragon. They already had a rope tangled around his horns, and some sinew wrapped around his hind legs. Their backs were turned.
Darko’s targets didn’t last long, the first one being impaled from behind, by the time the second R and B soldier saw the bloody blade, it was already being pulled out, spun around, and slashed across his face, instantly taking the second swordsman out of the action. Fercy winced from the blood splatter, looking away.
“You might have to get used to this.” Darko said. “Because if we’re going to war, worse is going to happen. Much worse.”
A bolt of lightning hit the ground in front of them, cutting meters into the dirt and knocking both Darko and his dragon back.
“We have to get out of here.” Darko said, quickly mounting Fercy and tapping his sides with his boots, signaling for maximum speed. “Let’s go go go!”
Darko shot out of the barn atop his dragon, and the Mage aimed his staff, charging up a red ball of flame.
“Watch out Fercy!” Darko said as the flame burst was propelled towards them at a high rate of speed.
Fercy dived off the cliff, the flame disappearing past him and dissipating into the clouds below him.
“This just makes our objective more pertinent.” Darko said. “If anyone knows how to test you for the third aerial, it’s Xiu Wei.”
Fercy looked back at him, as if beckoning him to reiterate.
“That’s right Fercy; I think you’re ready to join a squadron.” Darko said.
Fercy replied with a growl, seemingly uplifted, the next beats of his wings seemed stronger, his course straighter, and the mountain snow seemed to shoot past quicker now. People often speculated over how much dragons could understand. Their ability to understand virtually every command was apparent, but whether or not they understood conversations, gossip… how much did a dragon know? Did it understand the word love; hate? How much can a dragon even hear? Does it understand stories; tragedies? When someone would say, “If you understand what I told you about love, flap your wings.” and it flapped its wings, did it really understand love, or was it simply responding to the command for flapping its wings? Darko didn’t think he’d ever fully know, but he talked to his dragon regardless, telling him secrets, crushes, and gossip in general. Even now, as they flew farther up the mountain, Darko told him how he felt about the third aerial; how he didn’t want him to come to harm, but still wanted him to know how to defend himself. He reiterated the fact that this war would be dangerous, and said, “And lastly: You must survive, don’t put honor over your life, if death is apparent, and you are given a chance to avert it, take it, regardless of the cost. You are too important to lose to petty emotions.”