PREFACE: I started writing this in 2018, then got stuck. Had new ideas a few weeks ago and thus was able to complete the story. This one introduces a new major character, a mysterious fellow known as Noth the Hunter…
The world was old, the world was dark, the world was dying. And as the wind roared, and the rivers ran red with the blood of the fallen, I walked through the fog toward the dark citadel.
A chilling breeze hit my face as I approached. I clenched my fists and walked on. There was no turning back for me now. My fate was sealed, as was that of my brethren.
As I approached, the large black gates slowly swung open in eerie silence. It struck me then that utter silence bathed me... save for my footsteps and the light hum of the wind.
The courtyard was deserted, and though I should have looked elsewhere, I found myself drawn to the castle proper. I paused a moment at the entrance, peering within. Lit chandeliers were fixed to the walls at regular intervals, casting dancing shadows about the vast room as their flames crackled and flared. There was nothing of particular note here, so I stepped in and made my way toward the back, where I had spotted a large staircase leading up.
There were many rumors about this place. Some claimed a powerful necromancer lived here, others that it hid a portal to some infernal dimension or, more simply, that it was haunted. All I knew was that the people from my village had been abducted and brought here.
The absence of servants, however, was disconcerting.
I drew my sword and started up the stairs, wary that I may be stepping into an ambush. None of this felt right.
A loud clank made me jump and spin, only to realize it was the sound of the closing door. With my heart thumping, I took a deep breath and resumed my ascent.
Despite the quiet, I knew people lived here. Witnesses had said as much, though the lack of dust spoke more loudly still.
Yet all I found were empty halls and empty rooms. Some were locked, but no sound came from within, and so I moved on.
After an hour, I stopped, baffled. Could my information be wrong? Had my people been taken elsewhere?
I decided to focus my search where I should have started it—underground. They would not lock so many people within the castle, but more likely in the dungeons.
The passage down was narrow and dark and smelled of old musk and incense. I found it behind a large, thick oak door that someone had left ajar.
The stairs took me deeper than expected. It ended in a large, empty, circular room with four connecting tunnels. These were pitch black. Spotting torches on the walls, I grabbed one and picked the entrance to the far right.
Minutes later, I heard what sounded like moaning. Quickening my pace, I soon arrived at a door. The moans had stopped, but I could hear deep breathing from within. I entered, sword at the ready.
A man I did not recognize lay on the ground, head propped up against the wall. His left hand covered a wound on his chest, while his right held a blade pointed in my direction.
“Who goes there?” he asked.
From his voice, it was clear he did not have much strength left in him.
“One who wishes you no harm,” answered I. “If you lower your weapon, I might be able to assist you with that cut.”
To my surprise, he immediately rested his arm and let go of his sword, which clinked as it hit the ground.
“Well met, stranger,” he said in a whisper. “I am Arthus.”
I sheathed my own and walked up to him. As I knelt, he removed his hand so I could inspect the wound. It seemed deep, but the blade that struck him had clearly missed the heart. If the bleeding was stopped, he would survive.
“And I, Rodwyn.” I brought out a dagger and dipped its tip into the torch’s flame. “I’ll have to hurt you to help you, I’m afraid.”
He nodded as he watched. There was no trace of fear on his face, only hard resolve. He bit down hard on a piece of rag that I placed in his mouth. I immediately applied the burning iron to his skin. His body arched, his eyes closed, his fists clenched, and in a second it was over. I thought he might have passed out, but his eyes flickered open, sweat covering his forehead.
“Thanks,” he muttered after spitting out the rag.
“What happened?” I asked.
It was a moment before he answered as he took a few deep breaths, coughed a little, and tried to sit in a more comfortable position—I helped him do so.
“Ten men jumped me,” he finally said. “In a room not far from here. I never saw them coming. I would have been done for if...” He trailed off, seeming a bit startled as he looked around anxiously.
“There’s no one else here, just you and me. If what, Arthus?”
“I...” He blinked. “I saw him. I swear.”
“Who?”
“It couldn’t have been a dream. I’d be dead, otherwise... wouldn’t I?”
“Who did you see, Arthus?”
“Noth,” the name came in a whisper.
I frowned.
“Noth the Hunter?”
The man just nodded, avoiding my gaze.
Sitting next to him, my back to the wall, I slid my dagger back into its sheath.
“Are you sure?”
“The man was seven feet tall, with long red hair. He killed all ten with two swings of the blackest and biggest sword I’ve ever seen. Not to mention that small dragon perched on his shoulder. Who else could it have been?”
Calling him a ‘man’ was not quite accurate. Noth was the stuff of legends. Some said he once was a king, who ruled over the fairies from a castle that floated in the sky. Others claimed he was a god.
“He brought me here after slaying those guys. Treated most of my wounds. Then, he left.”
“What did he say?”
“Not a word. I was in a daze through most of it, though.”
It was a puzzling thought. What could Noth be doing here? It obviously wasn’t his own lair, or why would he have helped my new friend? Had those who lived here somehow offended him? That could make him a formidable ally.
Pulling a flask from my pocket, I uncorked it and handed it to Arthus. He took a large swig from it and returned it with a thanks. The liquor wouldn’t heal him, but at least it’d warm him up and perhaps give him enough strength to go on.
“I need to keep moving,” I said. “My people are being held here, and I must find them.”
“And when you do, what then?”
I would have answered “I’ll release them, of course,” but it occurred to me that I was just one man going against who knew how many? I had not thought any of this through. My parents always thought me too impulsive—perhaps they were right, as I had instinctively taken to the road to rescue my brethren without considering what I would be up against. And from all accounts, it could well be an army.
Then again, an army would not be quiet—let alone invisible. There was something terribly off about all this, which the presence of Noth only seemed to corroborate. None of this made me feel any better.
“I cannot do nothing,” is all I managed to answer as I stood. “What of you?”
Arthus grimaced, pressing a hand against his wound. “It still hurts, but I should be alright.” He looked up. “I suspect you’ll need help. I shall come along, if you’ll allow it.”
“Can you walk?”
“Only one way to find out,” he said as he pulled himself up, one hand against the wall. I made a motion to help, but he stopped me with his other hand. “I need to know that I can do this on my own.”
And so he did.
Shortly thereafter, we set out together. Slowly at first, as he dealt with his pain, but he grew more confident, and soon we quickened our pace.
We advanced through empty and dark corridors, and it struck me that I knew nothing of this man. Who was he, exactly? What was he doing here? Why was he helping me? Where was he leading us? Because, without me first noticing, he had taken the lead.
Before I could put any of these thoughts into words, Arthus stopped and pointed toward a narrow passage on our right.
“That’s where it happened,” he muttered.
“Do you want to go back?” I asked.
“Not particularly.”
Despite his words, he turned into the corridor and walked straight on. I followed until we reached an arched entrance. I could smell the scent of dried blood and steel, clear signs that a battle had been fought nearby.
We entered a vast, empty room with lush tapestries hanging on the walls and torches set in between.
Calling it empty is not right, for there were bodies on the ground. I counted ten.
Arthus stood there motionless, staring at the corpses.
“I’m not sure what I expected to find,” he said with a sigh.
“Closure?”
He snorted. “Hardly.” A pause. “Hints, perhaps, as to who these people were.”
“That could still be.”
I approached the closest body and knelt by its side. Going through the man’s belongings, all I found were weapons and coins.
Arthus hesitated to follow my example.
“If you want answers,” I said, “this is how we get them. If we’re lucky, that is.”
“There could be clues in the castle, upstairs.”
“I searched it for over an hour. All the rooms are empty. It’s useless.”
He groaned. Then went to a body and searched it.
When we were done, we had collected an arsenal along with a small fortune in gold. But nothing else of real interest.
We were about to leave when Arthus pointed to a spot further away. “Look.” The floor there was darkened, as if scorched. “That’s where Noth appeared.”
“Appeared?”
“One moment he wasn’t there, the next he was.”
I moved closer to inspect the ground. It smelled strange. I knelt and ran a finger over the surface. It felt like powder. I had no idea what it meant, or if it even had any significance at all.
As I stood, my eyes fell on the closest corpse. I paused, staring at his fingers, blinked, and looked at the other dead men.
“We missed the obvious,” I remarked. “They all wear the same ring.”
“You think they belong to a cult?”
A symbol was embedded on the rings—that of a red and gold dragon curled around a green orb.
“An organized group, in any event.” I glanced at him. “You’ve never seen this before, I assume?”
He shook his head, still staring at the image as if mesmerized.
“We should not waste more time here,” I said softly.
My words shook him out of his daze. He straightened and nodded.
“Of course. You’re right. Come, I know where they would have taken your friends.”
I followed him.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve been through this place before,” he admitted. “I’ve seen the things they do...”
When he trailed off, I grew wary.
“Were you a prisoner?”
Arthus seemed embarrassed as he responded. “Not exactly... I was following someone.”
“And you are no more?”
The man glanced at me. “You think I have found her? I have not. Have I lost hope, then? Perhaps so. Despair is not uncommon in the depths of the earth.”
“Why were you attacked?”
He clenched his fists as our steps echoed through the empty tunnels. I wondered if any would hear and come check who was intruding.
“I tried to flee,” he muttered. “They would not let me.”
Why would anyone care about such a thing? How could he even ascribe such reasoning to his aggressors? And assuming he was correct, how could he not have known who they were?
It occurred to me that the man might not be well in his head.
***
He led us down more tunnels. These were wide enough for troops to march through. The slant took us clearly deeper, but I now believed he knew where my people were.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
When I asked him about it, he shrugged.
“I looked for her everywhere, my sweet Sarella. I’ve seen the pens where they keep their prisoners. She was in none of them. I fear they have killed her.”
“And so you gave up.”
I had not meant it as an accusation, though I knew I would never have stopped looking. I could not comprehend what had gone into this man’s head. To come all this way only to run away when the experience proved too challenging. What had he expected? That it would be easy?
“You don’t understand,” Arthus said defensively. “There are so many of them! You shall see for yourself, soon enough.”
And now he was brave? Did it take only one companion to make him feel stronger? Or had he been shamed by Noth’s intervention?
The tunnel further widened, and my guide stopped, holding up a hand.
“We’re here,” he whispered. “This way!”
We sneaked closer to the wall, where an opening gave into a chamber filled with cages.
But still, there was no sound.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“They are here.” Arthus shifted, eyes darting right and left. “Can’t you see them? There, in the shadows.” He pointed at the darkness. “So many! With blades drawn, too! They must have heard us.”
There was no one there.
Nothing at all.
“The cages are empty,” I remarked.
He scurried back in panic. “It’s a trap! It must be!” His voice grew louder, his pitch higher. “I can’t do this! I’m sorry!”
Arthus turned and fled, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly in the tunnels.
I watched him go in disbelief.
Then turned my attention back to the chamber.
Slowly, with my sword drawn, I went in and walked around the room.
Again, the absence of dust puzzled me.
Then I heard it—a faint whimpering from the back of the room.
Following the sound, I found a woman lying on the ground in the fetal position. When she heard me, she scampered back against the wall, eyes wide with fear.
I sheathed my sword and held my hands up.
“It’s alright,” I said softly, “I mean you no harm. Are you hurt?”
She wore a tight green tunic with tears in the fabric in a few spots, though I saw no blood or wounds. The lighting was poor, however, and her reaction hinted at some frightful experience.
Her eyes darted about, as if searching for others who may lurk in the darkness, ready to pounce on her at the slightest sign of weakness.
“I’m alone,” I told her.
I sat across from her, hoping it would make me seem less of a threat, and still I held my palms open between us.
She glanced down at my hands.
“Clean,” she muttered. “You are clean.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. I’d been on the road for days, with few opportunities to wash, and my skin was bruised and caked with dirt.
“What’s your name?” I asked. “I’m Rodwyn.”
“Ahsha.”
“What happened to you, Ahsha? And where is everyone?”
She still wouldn’t meet my gaze, and my heart ached for her. Despite the lack of wounds, it was clear she had endured much pain. Her tangled hair was long and black, clumps resting on her bare shoulders.
“I... I left.”
“Listen to me, Ahsha. I am looking for my people. My entire village was taken and brought here. But... Why are all these cages empty?”
“They took the men for labor,” she said, her voice so low I had to strain to hear the words. “The children...” A shudder.
“What of the children?”
“You cannot save them anymore.” A sob came out of her throat.
Anger flared within me. “They killed them?”
“Their god feeds upon the innocent.”
I had heard of such things. Savages who drank blood and feasted upon human flesh, worshiping ancient gods who demanded cruel sacrifices. I had thought them fanciful stories, told around the fire to frighten the children so they would not stray into the woods.
Oh, how I had erred.
“And what of the women?” I asked through clenched teeth, thinking of my mother and sisters.
She looked away. “Do not ask if you do not wish to know.”
I reached out and gently lifted her chin so she would face me.
“I need to know.”
Finally looking into my eyes, she read the truth in them.
“They only kept us as long as we entertained the men. Those who refused, or who no longer could, had their throats slit. I refused.”
Leaning backward, she exposed her neck, displaying a wide red gash that ran from side to side.
“How did you survive such a wound?” I asked in shock.
She stared at me. “I did not.”
Is she touched by the same madness that took Arthus? I wondered.
“Where are they all?”
“Not here,” she muttered.
“Where?” I insisted.
I was startled when she reached out, pressing her hand against my cheek.
“Would you avenge me?” she asked, reddened eyes burning with newfound resolve.
The question made me uneasy. And yet, those who had done this to her—and likely to my brethren—were monsters. Did they not deserve the harshest of punishments? Would I not avenge my own people? And would that not avenge her as well?
It was a small matter to agree to.
And so I did—with a nod and two words.
“I would.”
“Then I will show you the way.”
With difficulty, she pulled herself up. I grabbed her arm to help. She tensed when I touched her, but then relaxed and leaned against me.
“I am... was a sorceress,” she said. “My powers are weakened here, but not entirely gone. For how much longer, I do not know. Better we not linger.”
“Show me the way.”
And so she did.
***
We walked to the entrance of the chamber, no further. Then Ahsha turned to look inside again and held out her hand.
“Beware, for you are one and they are many. I shall shield you as best I can, but you will remain vulnerable in some ways. Seek the eye and you shall see the truth for what it is. Do not fear death, for already it is upon you.”
Her words were cryptic, and I would have questioned her, but a light came from her fingers and burst into a glittering blue ball. Her voice grew hoarse as guttural words in an unknown tongue came flowing out of her throat.
The air grew thick and hot and damp.
Shapes formed in the shadows.
Blades glinted against the flickering flames.
Voices rose—speech, laughter, screams.
A chill went down my spine.
I lowered myself to the ground, urging the sorceress to do the same, only then noticing that she was gone.
But I was not alone.
The chamber—that same chamber where I had met Ahsha—was now filled with rowdy men, all of them wearing black uniforms and that damned ring with the dragon and orb.
And the cages!
They, too, were filled. With weeping prisoners—some bruised and battered, some bleeding. I saw faces I knew amongst them, and my blood boiled anew.
But what was I to do?
The woman was right—I was one, and they were many.
I heard steps behind me.
“Well, what... what do, uh, we... have here?”
Spinning around, I found myself face to face with a staggering man. His face was red, and his breath stank of wine.
Having not drawn my sword, I slammed my fist into his face.
He dropped like a rock.
I glanced between his body and the chamber, and a thought came to me.
Dragging the man into a nearby alcove, I divested him of his uniform. It was a bit tight on me, but it would do. I nearly forgot the ring and had to backtrack for it. It required some pulling to come off, but it did. I slipped it on, hoping it wouldn’t get stuck—I did not wish to keep the cursed thing.
Having nothing to tie the man with, I left him as is, hoping his drunken stupor would be enough to keep him out of the way. Presently, he was snoring, and I took that as a good sign.
Thus attired, I made my way into the chamber, acting as if I belonged. No one challenged me.
I looked around, studying the place from every angle, wishing I had done so before the sorceress had sent me through.
And what had she done exactly? It was the same place, and yet it was not. There had been no one there, and yet here they were. I could only wonder where ‘here’ was.
But no answer made itself known.
Perhaps I should wait until they slept. Then I could free the prisoners and strike—slit their throats as they did to others, or set the place afire.
Unless it happened soon, I could not afford to wait. The drunk would wake and sound the alarm.
What to do?
I leaned against the wall, casual-like, and counted the men.
There were thirteen near at hand, and at least twice as many on the other side of the closest cage.
Kill them! Ahsha’s voice hissed in my ear.
I jumped, startled.
“You okay, friend?”
My head tilted to the side. A bandit with large, globulous eyes was watching me mockingly.
“I thought I heard something,” I said.
“The wenches moaning with pleasure, I’m sure.” He and his companions all barked with laughter. “You new? Don’t remember seeing you before. Come over, have a drink, tell us your story.”
I didn’t have time for this, but neither could I deny him.
Tear his eyes out and open his gut! commanded the voice inside my head.
Why was the sorceress tormenting me? It was hard enough navigating through this without her comments.
Holding back a wince, I settled on one of the boulders they used as seats. It was not comfortable.
You are weak! Had I known, I would have fed you the entrails of a snake.
I sent my thought out to her as best I could.
Be quiet! You are not helping!
The big-eyed goon handed me a flask. “Drink up!”
I took a swig and grimaced. They laughed.
“Strong stuff, ain’t it? Good for the gut. Will keep you warm, too, when it gets cold. And it’ll get cold before you know it.”
“Unless Old Niemus has his way,” said another bandit—this one had a nasty scar beneath his right ear.
“True.” Big Eyes drank and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Been a couple days since the last one, hasn’t it? A new giving is due soon, methinks.” He looked at me. “What say you?”
“I say it’s smart thinking.”
He slapped my shoulder with a big grin on his face. “That’s exactly right! I’m the smartest thinker you’ll ever meet—ain’t I, boys?”
The others conceded the point, half-heartedly, a detail Big Eyes seemed not to notice.
You are wasting time, Ahsha said in annoyance.
What would you have me do? Kill one or two of them and die before I can save the prisoners? My fist clenched around the flask. You were much more pleasant before you sent me here.
She did not respond.
The men were still talking, and I was happy they had stopped asking questions I could not answer. Though how long my luck would last, I could not say.
A roar rang and the earth shook under me.
Nasty Scar straightened and grinned. “Told ya!”
All of them were now rubbing their hands in glee.
“We’ll have a feast tonight!” Big Eyes glanced toward the cages. “And for dessert, I want that feisty one.”
“You had her last time!” whined a smaller man with a brown beard spotted with red streaks.
The other quirked a brow. “You have a problem with it?”
For a moment, it looked like Spotted Beard might challenge him, but he finally lowered his head and shook it. “No.”
Big Eyes looked at me. “I’d share her with you, though, just this once. What say you?”
I wanted to strangle him. To shove my dagger down his throat. To—
Do it!
“I’d have to see her first,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice steady.
The bandit laughed. “Oh! You’re a picky one, are you? I like that! Come, I’ll show—” Another roar cut him off, and he cursed. “We’ll take care of that later. Let’s go, we had better hurry if we don’t want to miss all the fun.”
When I looked up, I realized the chamber was now half empty. Men were filing out through a large opening on the opposite wall.
Nasty Scar jumped to his feet and hurried toward the crowd, and the rest of us followed.
Above the entrance, a symbol was carved into the stone wall, colored with fresh blood and black chalk—a vertical pupil, fiery and judging.
I trailed toward the back, wondering if this might not be the best time... if not to strike, at least to free the prisoners.
But as we approached the opening, the air grew hotter, and a massive shape appeared beyond.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw it for what it was.
A red and gold dragon.
***
Red and gold.
My eyes darted to the ring on my index finger. The colors matched.
I stared at the creature as it roared again, a ball of fire bursting from its maw, searing the rock ceiling overhead.
That’s when I noticed the chains.
Thick, black, long. Wrapped around the dragon’s legs and wings, they held it in place. Another was on its neck, keeping its head tilted.
So it won’t burn the people, I realized bitterly. And this is their god?
What sick joke was this?
A large stage had been set up in front of the beast. On it stood three men. In the middle, an elderly fellow with a black tunic, a hood, a long gray beard, and eyes brimming with fervent delight. The two at his sides were burly goons, heavily armed, though the one on the right made me uneasy. There was something about him that felt familiar. But the more I tried to remember, the more my discomfort grew, so I tore my gaze away...
... only to land on a pile of corpses tossed against the wall.
And there, among them, a familiar face.
Ahsha.
Skin white as death, dried blood scabs gracing the gaping wound on her neck.
Again, I looked away, blanching.
And, again, I saw something I was not meant to see.
A face. With red eyes. Hiding in the shadows. Staring straight at me. As did the small white creature on the man’s shoulder.
My breath caught in my throat.
Noth. He’s real!
But I had no time to process all this information, as a voice rose from the stage, drawing my attention.
The old man had stepped forward, lifting his hands in the air.
“My children! Welcome! Today, once again, we feed our god, blessed among the blessed!”
“All hail Gorhanamn!” the crowd shouted in one voice.
Bandits pulled a contraption onto the stage. Built on wheels, it held a platform—stained with blood—and a series of pulleys.
“What is that for?” I asked.
The man closest to me seemed startled by the question.
“You must be new.”
“Aye, I am.”
He snorted. “Our god must be contained, lest he consume even his faithful, for his cravings are unending! And so the sacred morsels are placed on the platform, which is lifted to where he can reach them. Look! Here they come, the Chosen! How blessed are they!”
The man almost sounded like he wished he were the one sacrificed.
Instead, four children were led onto the stage...
... and one of them was my daughter, Eiea.
“No!” I shouted, pushing people aside so I could rush to the stage.
Hands seized me, held me. I clawed, snarled, screamed—in vain.
“Let him pass!” a voice commanded.
Just as quickly as I’d been restrained, I was free, and a path widened before me, all the way to the stage.
“Come forward, my son. Speak your grievances.”
The old man looked at me with kindness—though there was a glint in his eye that still hinted at his madness.
I stopped a few feet from him and glanced at my daughter. She seemed peaceful, her eyes closed, as if asleep—as were the other children. A small mercy, perhaps.
“She is my daughter,” I said, pointing at her. I could feel the burning gaze of the guard—the one I knew, somehow, from somewhere, though still I could not recall. “You cannot do this!”
The wizard—for that was what he was—stared at me intently.
“Sacrifices must be made. My own son was the first giving.” He motioned toward my hand. “You wear the ring, I’m sure you understand.”
“That’s it!” The guard’s eyes had gone wide. “I knew I’d seen him somewhere. He was in the village, Lord Niemus! And I killed him with my own hands—chopped his head off.”
The world started spinning around me. I felt sick, like everything I’d ever eaten and ever would wanted to come out of me, right now.
“Truly, Gadhen?” The old man’s amused voice came as from a distance. “I should have you replaced if this is evidence of your competence.”
“But I killed him!” protested the guard.
Niemus made a bored gesture toward me. “And yet, here he is, very much alive.” After a sigh and a shake of his head, he clapped his hands. “Enough of this nonsense. Take them away—both of them.”
Gadhen gaped. “What?”
But already bandits had crowded around him and were pulling him away, even as others did the same with me.
“Let us proceed!” the wizard said cheerfully.
The dragon roared.
The ground shook.
An explosion overhead.
Screams, shouts.
The clang of swords.
Hands dropped away as bandits jumped at each other, yelling and stabbing.
The air shimmered, and I turned my head.
And there he was.
The being that could only be Noth stared at me quietly for a moment before calmly walking toward the stage, ignoring the chaos around him.
And, perched on his shoulder, the small dragon wagged its tail, looking behind, as if watching his master’s back.
Our eyes met for a moment, and a puff of blue smoke came out of its nostrils.
But no one else seemed to see them.
Had Noth somehow bewitched these thieves and murderers?
Niemus and the one guard who remained were the exceptions.
When they spotted him, their faces drained of blood.
The big guy drew his sword but seemed reluctant to step forward.
Noth barely spared him a glance, his attention focused on the old man.
“You are an abomination!” cried out the wizard.
His hands moved so fast I could no longer see his fingers.
Something sharp bit into my skin, but it meant nothing to me. The pain was distant, meaningless. All that mattered was the scene unfolding on that stage.
I was aware of every little detail. They jumped at me, vivid and clear.
The metal chains holding the dragon cracked and split.
A sickly glow glimmered between the wizard and Noth.
Noth lashed out, grabbed the old man’s hands in mid-motion, and crushed them.
The guard found a coward’s courage and lunged for Noth’s back.
“No!” I shouted.
Grabbing a dagger from my belt, I threw it at the guard.
The blade drove into the man’s neck, and he slumped to the floor even as Noth seized the wizard, lifted him in the air, and hurled him toward Gorhanamn.
Now free from its chains, the dragon lowered its head, opened its jaws wide, and in went a screaming Niemus. Fangs shut tight, and the crunching of bones filled the room, and Niemus screamed no more.
When quiet returned, I looked around and saw dead men all around me, the floor covered with blood and guts.
I rushed to the stage to free the children and held Eiea tightly in my arms—though still she slept.
Lifting my eyes, I saw Noth walking closer to the dragon.
The beast munched on, ignoring him.
Noth the Hunter drew his sword and plunged it into the creature’s soft underbelly.
It roared in a mix of pain and shock.
“What are you doing?” I heard myself yell. “Stop it! That dragon did nothing wrong!”
But it was useless. Noth continued his gruesome affair, splitting the flesh apart, digging deeper, even after the dragon had fallen to the side, its massive body thrashing.
Finally, he reached in, seized something, and pulled hard until Gorhanamn stopped moving, and the seven-foot, black-clad god held a beating heart in his hand.
Slowly, the heart, too, stopped beating. And it hardened. Its texture shifted, veins fading, replaced by grayish glints. Until all that was left was an orb-shaped, head-sized rock—red and gold with streaks of black.
He opened a pouch, and a darkness crept out of it that made my skin crawl. It grew and grew until it was big enough that he could fit what had once been a heart into it. He shoved it in, pulled his hand out, then waited until the darkness receded into the pouch.
Then he swung and stared at me.
“Why would you do that?” I asked, still shocked by what I had witnessed.
He said nothing.
I pointed at the small creature on his shoulder.
“You have a dragon yourself!”
It flapped its wings and quacked as if in disapproval.
“What are you, then, if not that?” I asked it in annoyance.
You don’t deserve to know.
The voice was soft and pleasant, almost musical, as it rang in my head.
I stared in awe, and it stared back with a haughty air.
A massive hand dropped onto the creature and patted its white scales. It preened in response.
Tilting its head, it squeaked, and I felt a heat grow behind me.
I spun and saw a shimmering green light, narrow as a sword.
“What is this—”
Glancing over my shoulder as I spoke, I never finished as Noth leaned forward and pushed me.
I fell into the light.
My shape melted and blended with the glow, and I gasped as I was no more.
***
My cheeks throbbed, a stinging pain spreading through my face.
I opened my eyes.
Ahsha grinned and straightened. She had been leaning over me and...
“Were you slapping me?” I asked in annoyance.
“Of course. Had to wake you, didn’t I? Wouldn’t want you drifting off without me. Had to thank you, didn’t I?”
I sat up, rubbing the back of my head as I looked around. I was still in the same room, but it was different now. The bodies were all gone. Even the dragon, the wizard, the guard, and...
“Noth! Where is he?”
“Wherever gods go when they’re done playing with humans, I wager.”
Jumping to my feet, I pointed an accusing finger at her.
“You knew I was dead all along, didn’t you? You should have told me!”
“Don’t say it like that!” She scowled. “I don’t like it. Besides, I did tell you, you just didn’t listen.” The scowl turned into a grin. “But hey, everything’s fine, you did it! You kept your promise. They’re all dead—even if you didn’t kill them all yourself, but I’m willing to turn a blind eye and give you your reward, nonetheless.”
“My reward?” I asked in confusion.
“Of course!” She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer, biting down playfully on my lip. “You just got lucky, my friend.”
“Hold on just one minute!” I pulled away, which brought the scowl back onto her face. “How is it that we’re still alive if we’re dead?”
“You’re kind of thick, aren’t you?” She waved around. “Does this look normal to you? The emptiness, the silence, the lack of dust... This is not the world we lived in. It’s a replica—and a poor one at that.” A grimace twisted her features, as if she’d just tasted something sour. “Still, it’s better than nothing, I suppose.”
I stared at her as I processed her words and thought back to everything I’d seen and heard. Remembering the bodies Arthus and I had searched, I grunted.
“But I saw dead men! Went through their things, collected gold, and—”
“Tsk. That’s not nice. Don’t you know it’s bad form to steal from the dead?”
“Answer me, damn it!”
She sighed. “You’re such a fun-spoiler! Fine. Only those with unfinished business can linger here. You wanted to free your people, and I wanted revenge.”
“What about Arthus?”
“I have no idea who that is.”
“A man I met before you. He wanted to help, but then ran away.”
“Oh! I see the type. Chances are he’ll be stuck here for a long time. Cowards are chained by their guilt, but as long as fear remains their master, they cannot break free.”
“Aren’t we stuck as well?”
“Not anymore! You saved me, my hero!” she said mockingly.
“So, now what?”
A flicker of doubt lit her gaze, and for a moment I recognized that wounded, scared woman I had met before she’d thrown me back into the realm of the living.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But the good news is, we get to find out together. Exciting, isn’t it?” She winked. “Come on, let’s get out of here!”
Placing her arm in the crook of mine, she pulled me toward the exit.
I followed.
Outside, the sky was dark and the air was cold. The wind roared and the rivers ran red. Fog parted before us as we left the dark citadel behind.
Ahsha lifted her hand in wonder.
“Here we go! Look!”
I could see through her skin.
Glancing at my arm, I noticed the same thing.
We were fading, slowly, as all things living are meant to fade.
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If you like epic fantasy, here are a few other titles you might enjoy:
Deathbringer (where Reikk confronts a minotaur AND a dragon!)
Salamandra Sun (two thieves try to steal the sun)
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Text (c) 2026 by Alex S. Garcia.
Header: royalty-free stock image, edited by me.
