by Sami Dougish
I began to laugh softly. But soon enough I was laughing like a madman. My peals of laughter echoed loudly throughout the caverns and even drowned out the sound of the rushing water. Free, I was free! This was the first time in years that I laughed, truly laughed in pure joy. I don’t know how long I lay there, but my moment of joy was soon interrupted.
“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF THE MATRIARCH! GET OFF YOUR HALF BREED ASS AND GET US OUT OF HERE! OR DO YOU INTEND TO SIT HERE LAUGHING LIKE A MAN WITH A SERIOUS LACK OF MENTAL CAPACITY!”
“OH, SHIT WHAT THE FUCK!”
I leapt to my feet in surprise, as Raskorian’s voice reverberated through my head like the giant drums of the Thuum king’s entourage. The fucking dragon had nearly scared my scales right off of my body.
My heart was still attempting to force its way out of my chest when I yelled out to the darkness, “What the hell is wrong with you?! You scared the shit out of me, and how can you talk to me even when I’m not in my weird mind space thing or whatever the fuck it is?!”
The damn dragon actually huffed in my mind and asked seemingly to himself, “Why does my vessel have to be a half breed with half, no that is being too generous, a quarter of a brain. Of course, I can talk to you, our souls are now one, and I live within you, do you not think it would be incredibly inconvenient if I couldn’t speak with you at all times?”
“What do you mean our souls are tied?!”
“Must I explain everything to you? I mean exactly what I said, our souls are now one, if you die, I die, which is why I want you to stop wasting our time by sitting in the dark like a fool! And stop yelling in the dark like a madman, if you are to be my host, have some decorum!”
I was actually tempted to smack my own head against a rock, in a desperate attempt to hit the bastard, but I decided that was an unwise course of action to take. Instead, I just ground my teeth and tried to figure out how I would get out of here. The irritating dragon was right though, I needed to get out of here. My newfound freedom would be useless if I was stuck underground. But how could I get out of here?
I pondered the problem and thought of my options. Coming back the way I came was out of the question. Even if I could scale the small waterfall, against the current, and swim who knew how far back in the darkness, I would still have to figure a way to climb back up the chasm that had dropped me down here in the first place. I let my tongue slip out, tasting the air, and from what I could tell the air was stale around here. The only place that I tasted a bit of fresher air was from the direction of the current. Looked like I would have to get back in the river and follow it to what was hopefully an area where the water flowed into the valley. Rivers always flowed downwards after all. That was unless a mage decided to use some strange magic, and I had a feeling that wasn’t the case here.
I followed my ears to find my way back to where the water was slowly flowing by, and after a few stumbles in the dark, I guessed I was close to the river’s edge. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see anything, and I promptly stepped into the water and fell face-first into the river. The freezing water was a shock to my senses, and I floundered and tried to right myself in the cold water. My head broke the surface of the water, and I sucked in a breath of air. Well, at least I had found the water. The current was much weaker here than what it was previously, but I could still vaguely feel it, and I let my body follow the water.
It was hard to tell how much time passed as I followed the water. The only sounds were the water, and my breathing. Raskorian had been quiet for some time, and I thanked my good fortune for that. I let my mind wander as I followed the current, and my mind wandered to what I would do now that I was free. I couldn’t return to the Thuum, not only did I hate the place, but I would be enslaved immediately if I was recognized as a drayzraac. Fortunately, this continent was vast, and I could go to numerous other places, but the problem was I didn’t really know much about them. Spending years as a slave kept you very isolated and cut off from the rest of the world. Seeing as I had been there since I was a child, I was far behind the times. There were some things that I still knew for sure. One, my kind was still hated throughout the world. My masters had made that quite clear to me daily. Two, I had only two useful skills, mining, and killing. From that perspective, to make a living I could be a miner of sorts or something that related to combat. Honestly, the latter was by far the preferred choice. I had spent long enough as a manual laborer and had taken no joy in it. Fighting though, I had thrived there. Maybe since I used it as a chance to kill those that hated me, or maybe it was the animalistic rage that my people possessed. I had a feeling it was a mix of those two things and the fact that I had just been good at it. Becoming a champion of the arenas of Thuum was no small feat. Fighters and races from all over the world participated in the arenas of the continent, and with them came all manner of fighters.
The fact that a slave who had no formal training had been able to claw his way to the top had been unheard of until me. In the earlier days of my arena fights, my natural strength, agility, and size had allowed me to crush most of the lesser combatants with ease. Seeing an opportunity there, my owner had instructed guards to supply me with a variety of weapons to practice with. I had always been closely guarded in the training pit, with archers on standby, and armed guards to take me if needs be, but as long as I practiced in peace, I had been left alone.
As I said the arena brought fighters of all races and styles from around the world. This allowed me to experiment with a variety of weapons. My eventual weapon of choice had been long polearms. Specifically, tridents. I had loved the power that came with the weapon. The three prongs of the weapon could be used to leverage an opponent around once impaled. A spear would have an easier time sliding through a body, making it harder to maneuver an impaled opponent around. The prongs of a trident though would lodge between bones and get tangled, making it easier to throw an opponent around. Paired with my strength, I had been able to throw men around in the arena like rag dolls.
The weapon had its drawbacks however, its tendency to get tangled, made it less useful when fighting in large groups. While my deathmatches had been perfectly suited for its use, when I was involved in the large-scale brawls in the arena’s, I had found it necessary to use different weapons. What I had chosen had come after I fought a northern mountain man. I would have sworn he was half-giant, as the man had stood easily over seven feet tall. He had wielded a pair of war hammers with deadly efficiency. They could crush armor with terrifying ease when in the hands of a giant like the mountain man. That match had been one of the closest calls I had in the arena. The reach advantage of my trident had been the only reason why I had won. One of the sharpened ends managed to stab through the man’s ankle, and with the precious tendons back there severed, the man had crumpled, and his blow that would have crushed my skull missed.
After the match, I had made a request of my master. It was the only request I had ever made of the pompous prick, but he had gladly allowed it. I had asked to use the mountain man’s weapons. While I hadn’t been as large as the mountain man, I was still abnormally strong. And after several months of hard practice, I had felt comfortable enough to use the weapons in the large arena battles. The weapons actually required a much higher level of finesse than most would think. Parrying with a hammer is no easy task, and so any blocks made with the weapons had to be precise and timed well. I had taken numerous wounds while learning to use them effectively against real opponents, but once I did, I had been as deadly up close as I was at a distance.
Another set of polearms I had a particular fondness for were polearms with curved heads, specifically guandaos, or naginatas. The curved blades allowed for a more sweeping and arcing style of fighting. They were both extremely useful when fighting multiple opponents, and both had their strengths. If I was fighting more heavily armored opponents, I would take the guandao due to its thicker and heavier blade. When it came to quicker and lightly armed opponents, I would choose the faster Naginata.
; As much as I had hated being enslaved, having a rich and powerful master who wanted to have you fight regularly had its advantages. Most newcomers had to wait for weeks to get their chance to fight, while those with more fame and fanbases, had much more readily available fights. My master had paid well to have me fight as frequently as possible. Though many wouldn’t openly support me, as I was a drayzraac, I was still an arena favorite, but more often than not it was because the crowds wanted to see me fall. I always disappointed them on that issue. I had loved the arena. It wasn’t that I liked being the center of attention. It was simply the place where I could spend my time doing what I loved, killing those who hated me and anyone else in the arena. I had taken, and still did take, great pleasure in killing others, especially humans. A life of being treated as an animal doesn’t produce men who are compassionate.
I grinned as I remembered the furious crowd’s reaction when I had claimed the champion title. They had hated to see their former champion fall before me. I had taken a great deal of pleasure from the fight. It had ended with me ripping his throat ripped out with my teeth, bleeding to death on the dirt floor of the arena. I had thoroughly enjoyed that moment. I shivered in pleasure, as I remembered the taste of his flesh and blood.
Yes, fighting was the way to go for me, and if I wanted to support myself away from the public eye, maybe work as a mercenary would be a way to make a living. I would either join one of the many mercenary guilds, or freelance alone. What I had picked up in the arena and slave pens, was that freelancers had to provide all their own gear and had a much lower survival rate due to the fact that they usually worked alone. They had the advantage though, of being able to choose contracts at will and keep all the spoils and profits of their job for themselves.
Guilds, on the other hand, would provide their members with starting equipment, and a basic stipend. They usually took on much larger contracts, like fighting in kingdoms armies or helping to quell rebellions. The spoils however were always divided between the mercenaries, and the guild itself though, and the higher your rank in the guild, the more you received.
The guild path appealed to me less. I most likely wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms to any guild, as I was drayzraac, and even if I was allowed to become a full member, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be welcomed by the other mercenaries of the guild. Plus, years of slavery, had given me a deep mistrust and hate for people in general. All races hated my kind, and the slaves of all races were the same. In the pits, I was usually shunned, and insulted by the other slaves. It had bred a deep resentment in me, and the idea of willingly placing myself under a guild command did not sit well with me at all. Nope, if I did become a mercenary, it would be as a freelance one. I preferred to rely on only myself, and life as a solitary mercenary was preferable to the life I had led so far.
These thoughts pulled me back to what I had discovered here under this mountain. I still had trouble believing that an actual dragon now existed within me. Raskorian was apparently at least hundreds of years old, and if the stories were true, he was probably even older. That would mean he was from an age where dragons were not extinct and ruled their domain with unparalleled might. My finding him left me with so many questions but judging from Raskorian’s reaction when I had asked him about the wars, I wouldn’t be getting much out of the reptile anytime soon.
I felt an extreme annoyance worm its way into my mind when I thought of the dragon in question. As a child, I had always been told that I should revere dragons. They were after all, where my people had gained their draconic appearance. My grandfather had always enthralled me and the other children with stories passed down, about the splendor and might of the dragons. They had been apex predators and were of the most magical beings in existence.
Now that I was probably the only person to have met a dragon in 100s of years, let alone speak to one, I was wondering how accurate the stories were. Raskorian was what I would call a straight-up ass. He had done nothing but insult me and had expected me to fall over myself worshipping him. He was a much more extreme version of the nobles I had seen while a slave in Thuum. If he was being honest about being in that crystal for centuries, I assumed that he might have learned some humility. I would be wrong though, as the dragon was about as humble as a peacock. I always hated those damn birds, I had seen some kept as pets by nobles in the cities.
RRRRRGGHH the dragon was irritatingly uncooperative! I had no idea what any of this meant. I had a dragon now tied to my soul. Raskorian claimed that it would give me power, but he hadn’t explained what kind of power. He then told me to kill something of the proper blood essence. What in the ever-loving fuck did that even mean?!
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I felt a quickening of the flow of water. Shit, that meant I was probably coming to a drop of sorts in the river. A minute or two later, I saw a slight lightening ahead of me. I must have been getting near and exit! Now that I was no longer lost in thought, I let my tongue flick back out, and I tasted the freshening of the air in front of me. My excitement turned into nervous energy when a steady sound reached my sensitive ears.
It was the sound of water falling over a cliff. The current was picking up too, and now I was certain I was coming to a waterfall. How high it was, I had no clue, but like it or not I would be forced to find out soon enough. The light was now getting stronger and stronger, and I could now clearly make out the walls that surrounded me, and about 50 meters ahead of me, I saw the open air.
A mix of relief ran through me at the sight. I was about to reach the open air a free man, but that might be short-lived if I fell to my death! The sound of the water crashing to the earth was much louder now, and I guessed the drop was an impressive one. I began to frantically look around for anything to hold onto, but years of water running over rock had smoothed the area out, leaving nowhere for me to grab!
Shit! The edge was getting closer by the second, and I was still unable to arrest my movement towards the edge and my possible death! I was now near the exit of the mountain, and the bright light after so long in the dark, made stars appear in my vision, and I desperately tried to see through the blinding image, as my life depended on it! What I could make out, was the sight of water roaring over a cliff, and the spray of mist that accompanied it.
I couldn’t die now! I wouldn’t! I had just been given my freedom, and I wouldn’t lose it now! That was when I saw it, just before the drop, I saw two patches of plant growth on either side of the narrow drop. There was a small amount of floral growing there. It was a fool’s chance, but hopefully, it would keep me alive. If I could grab a hold of any of the plants, maybe the roots would hold long enough for me to pull myself out of the water. Of course, that would still leave me stuck on the side of a mountain, but I could worry about that once I managed to survive the water. I drew closer, and closer to the edge of the water, and I felt myself speeding up with the current. I kicked hard with my legs and propelled myself as fast as I could perpendicular to the current, to get myself as close to the edge of the water as possible, I wouldn’t get more than one chance to grab ahold of the plants growing there, and I wanted to be as close as possible.
“Now!” I bellowed out loud, as I lunged through the water towards the protruding plants. I latched around the nearest shrub looking plants, and held on for dear life, as the strong current pulled against me, trying hungrily to pull me over the edge. The plant held though! Thank the stars for sturdy mountain plants. With a grunt and a flexing of my muscles, I began pulling myself towards the small area of land. That was when I heard a bone-chilling sound. It was the sound of wood breaking.
I looked at the pant I was holding, and to my horror, I saw that part of the base of the plant had snapped. I felt a sharp tug, and my stomach lurched, as I felt myself being pulled back towards the edge.
“Fuck! NO, NO, NO!” The plant was breaking! My head was forced under the water, and I spluttered against the heavy current of water, as I prayed desperately for the plant to hold! I tried pullin
g myself slowly towards the edge, but then I felt a slight give, and in what seemed like slow motion, I saw the plant snap completely. And I was swept straight to the edge of the waterfall.
Chapter 2
The last thing that went through my mind as I was swept over the edge, was that for an apparently royal dragon of sorts, Raskorian was pretty fucking useless! The next moment, I was swept over the edge of the waterfall I roared out in anger, frustration, and no small amount of fear when I saw the enormous drop. Still, I didn’t let myself panic…too much. The next instant, I was freefalling. This was the second time today I had fallen from a great height, and I wasn’t so sure I would be as lucky this time. Last time, the water had been a flowing river. This time I was falling down into the base of a waterfall, from what I remembered of the falls of my home, Rocks tended to be spread all over the bottom of waterfalls.
The drop into the chasm had at least been only 60 feet or so. The landing had hurt, but I had survived, this drop looked to be doubled that height. I did my best to keep myself straight as I fell, hoping I would miss whatever sharp rocks were at the bottom. All of this went through my mind in about a tenth of a second. After that, the only thing I was able to do was bellow in my frustration at the world.
I felt the spray of water in my face, as I plummeted down to the frothy water beneath me, and time seemed to slow, as the mist floated around me. I had a split second to observe how mesmerizing the picture was before I slammed feet first into the water. I was immediately engulfed in water and came very close to blacking out from the impact. Still, I immediately kicked and struggled to push myself to the surface. This was made difficult however, as I was in some serious pain. While I hadn’t hit any rocks, I had still fallen over 100 feet straight down into roiling water. While I couldn’t tell if anything was broken, my entire body felt as if I had just been the victim of a stampede.