by Gage Lee
Every child knows how to chase away the darkness. It is an instinct as old as mortalkind.
A piercing howl echoed through the darkness, and Taun glanced over his shoulder in time to see shadows moving past the rectangle of daylight above him. The eldwyr were on his tail.
“I'll keep that in mind while these monsters eat me,” Taun said. “Or you can help me.”
Stop moving for one moment. There.
Taun felt the dragon return to his thoughts, but only for a split second. A tingling sensation flowed over his eyes. When it had passed, Taun could see.
Sort of.
All the color had been drained away and replaced with stark gray and black. Taun realized he'd been hiking down a staircase that had dwindled in size, its steps eaten away by centuries of erosion. If the dragon hadn't stopped the knight, he would have stepped off the stairs and fallen. Maybe he'd get lucky and the eldwyr would make that mistake.
Move. There is a passage at the bottom of the stairs. Follow it to its end.
“Not like I've got any choice,” Taun said. His heels slipped off the last few steps, and he caught his balance just before he sprawled face first into the mud that covered the ruin's subterranean floor. “Can you do something about the eldwyr?”
Yes I plan to kill them all. Just as soon as you reach me.
The mud clung to Taun's boots as he entered the passage the dragon had told him about. His enhanced vision showed him a straight tunnel with a single door at its end. The walls were etched with bold impressions of an enormous dragon crushing what appeared to be an entire army beneath its claws. While the years had eroded the details on the smaller figures the dragon slaughtered, they looked an awful lot like humans.
I would not worry overmuch about the feats of my past. Your forebears paid the price for their foolishness. If you listen to me, you will be spared their fate. Now, get down the hall.
Taun had always had trouble with authority. He respected his mother and father, but he hated being told what to do. Even in this case, he gritted his teeth against the dragon's command. Yes, it might just save his life. That didn't mean he liked it. “This had better be worth it,” he grumbled and hurried down the hall.
The corridor, twenty feet wide and tall, stretched out for a hundred feet ahead of Taun. His footsteps echoed down the hall, mingling with the eerie, high-pitched yips and grinding barks from the eldwyr chasing him. The acoustics made it impossible to tell how close his enemies were, and Taun didn't dare look behind him. If he slipped on a fallen piece of rubble or his foot slipped in a puddle he hadn't seen, that would be the end of him.
And there were so many hazards waiting to take his feet out from under him. Chunks of ceiling the size of his head littered the hallway. Water ran down the walls from cracks overhead and formed puddles and trickling streams that transformed patches of the stone floor into slick traps. Taun dodged around the dangers as best he could, jumped over those that were too wide, and prayed he'd reach the door at the end of the hallway before his enemies caught him.
A dragon loomed out of the darkness at the end of the hallway. Its massive wings spread wide to cover the ceiling and long stretches of the walls. Enormous legs bracketed an octagonal door, and its claws spread out on the floor ahead of it. Eyes the size of a man's head glittered with ferocious intelligence above gaping jaws filled with teeth like swords. The creature looked ravenous, and Taun's boots skidded to a stop.
“Don't kill me,” he whispered.
That is not me. Get to the door.
Relief poured through Taun. His gray and black vision had tricked him into believing a statue was a real dragon. He should have known better. Dragons were big, but none of them was that big.
I was. Now get in here.
Taun pursed his lips at the order but didn't hesitate. The eldwyr were too close for him to be stubborn. He ran for all he was worth, and the massive door between the dragon's legs split into eight equal triangles. The wedges of ancient stone slid back into the walls with a mechanical grinding. Vibrations made the ground tremble beneath the knight's boots, and more chunks of ceiling rained down around him. A spear of stone longer than Taun was tall slammed down into the ground beside him, peppering him with rocky shrapnel and spurring him to put on a final burst of speed. The door hadn't completely retreated by the time he reached it, but Taun didn't care. He leaped over it with ease and landed in a massive room.
The eight-walled chamber was covered in a fine, scaled pattern with hints of silver along its edges. An octagonal stone that was easily twenty-feet across lay at the heart of the room. Its surface was inscribed with the shape of a dragon's skeleton, skull tucked down to the chest, front claws curled just beneath the pointed snout. Its spine curved around to bent rear legs tipped with scythe-like talons, then continued and narrowed to the tail, which curved around to complete a circle with its nose.
Open the sarcophagus. We do not have much time.
“Shut the door?” Taun asked.
It is already closing.
Taun strode up to the stone in the center of the chamber. On closer examination, he saw the top was ever so slightly larger than the base. He hooked his fingertips beneath the carved lid, and strained to raise it.
“It won't budge,” he groaned.
Push it. Widdershins.
“What is widdershins?” Taun asked.
The eldwyr sounded far too close for comfort, and Taun couldn't help but look back the way he'd come. The door was nearly closed, but a smaller, faster eldwyr leapt toward the gap in its center. The nimble creature's head and shoulders cleared the opening.
The rest of its body did not.
The heavy stone triangles closed with a meaty crunch, and the top third of the eldwyr's body fell to the floor. Its fingers twitched and its arms spasmed, and then it lay still.
Put your hands on the lid and turn it to the left.
“You could have said that the first time!” Taun said, frustrated and worried the eldwyr would break down the door before he opened the dragon's final resting place.
I did.
Taun grabbed hold of the edge of the grave's lid, and threw his weight against it. To his surprise, the heavy stone rotated easily. It rose up from the base with every revolution, and Taun found he could spin the lid easily with his hands. Within a handful of seconds, the lid was several feet above the base and a strange, musky scent wafted out of the sarcophagus. Rays of argent light spilled out of the grave along with the smell, and its radiance called to the young knight.
Yes. Finally. Find my soul scale. We must bond before the eldwyr breach this sacred site.
“Bond?” Taun asked. He'd heard the legends of soul scales that belonged to the most ancient of dragons. It was said that their descendants could recover those scales and merge them into their natural armor. Doing so would recover the memories and thoughts of the dead dragon, ensuring its wisdom would not be lost.
But every one of those stories that Taun had read also made it very clear that the new host of the soul scale was often irrevocably changed by the experience. In some cases, the ancient dragon's powerful thoughts destroyed their host's mind and took over the body. Taun wanted to live, but giving his body up as the home for a dragon's spirit didn't seem like much of a life.
Do not be a fool. What use have I for body as frail is yours? Let me help you escape and save your family. There is still time.
While he’d never been around a true dragon noble for more than a few seconds when they visited his family’s keep, Taun and every other human child knew that those powerful creatures looked out for themselves first, and everyone else second. It wasn't that the dragons were evil; they simply lived life on a scale that humans found difficult to grasp. While Taun didn't think the spirit wished him any harm, that didn't mean he wouldn't be hurt by the process.
“Swear to me that you will leave when we have safely returned to the keep,” Taun said, doing his best to ignore the insistent hammering at the tomb's door. That was easier
said than done, given that cracks had already formed in the barrier.
Of course. I do not wish to remain attached to your body for any longer than necessary. When our work is complete, and you are safely reunited with your family and your home, I will summon my ancestors to retrieve me. We will be free of one another as quickly as possible.
“What do I do?” Taun asked.
Find the soul scale and hold it in both hands. I will do the rest.
Taun peered into the sarcophagus. A mound of greasy ash covered the stone floor of the base. Light poured from an object near the center of that pile, and Taun hopped over the coffin's side and crawled beneath the open lid to paw through the coarse black powder. The ashes stuck to fingers like flakes of black snow. The smell grew stronger when he disturbed the ashes. The combination of roasted meat and rot coated Taun's tongue with a film that tasted of charcoal smoke.
A section of the door shattered, revealing a wood and flesh fist dripping green sap and red blood. Taun's breath caught in his throat like a fistful of fish hooks. He was out of time.
Take the scale. Now!
The young knight yelped in surprise as the noise hammered against his ears. He redoubled his digging, flinging ashes every direction as he searched for a single scale. He was soon coated in a matte black layer of the dragon's remains. But still, he couldn't find the light's source.
Maybe he didn't want to. Axaranth had offered to save his family, but Taun wasn't sure the dragon had told him the whole truth. After all, after so long in the ground the ancient creature might just want a host. And if this really was Axaranth, the histories were filled with tales of how the powerful dragon had connived and cajoled his way to victory time and again. Taun was smart, but he knew there was no hope of him winning a battle of wits with this dragon. Thousands of years of experience was too much of an edge for him to overcome.
A terrible, braying filled the tomb. Taun glanced back at the door and saw spade-like wooden fingers had hooked around the hole's edge. The creature on the other side of the door threw its weight back, howling as the stone creaked and threatened to give way.
I sense your fear, man-child. Let me ask you this: Even if I do seize your body and control it until I find a more suitable host, is that fate worse than knowing you could have saved your family but chose not to?
That thought drew a stunned gasp from Taun. He imagined his family out there, surrounded by eldwyr, their armor dented, weapons chipped. There were too many of the foul creatures, and no one knew they were in danger. If Taun didn't save them, no one would. The eldwyr would move on to the keep, and it would fall. As frightened as Taun was of losing himself to the dragon, he would not bear the responsibility for his family's death.
In a handful of seconds the eldwyr would be on top of Taun. He panted, heedless of the ash that coated his tongue and throat, and dug deeper, deeper...
There.
The young knight's fingers closed around an object harder than steel and thinner than an egg shell. Taun lifted it up and shook the black ash from its surface. The scale was the size of his head, and the ashen flakes slid effortlessly away from the gleaming silver remnant of a dragon who had been old when the world was still young.
Let me in.
Taun felt pressure against his mind. The heavy weight settled over his thoughts like a fishing net capturing a school of frightened perch. The knight hesitated, knowing that his next decision could have consequences he only vaguely understood.
Then the eldwyr smashed through the door in cloud of shattered stone.
“Let's show them who's boss,” Taun shouted.
The dragon roared, and the killing began.
Chapter 3
AXARANTH WAS NO LONGER in Taun's thoughts. The dragon had inhabited the young knight, its soul wearing him like a suit of armor. Its roar erupted from deep inside Taun and shook the vault with its triumphant echoes. The ancient creature's strength filled Taun with power that strained against his young frame.
You are weaker than I thought. We must do this before your body fails.
While the dragon could have simply controlled Taun, it chose a kinder approach and merely guided him. Together, host and dragon stormed across the burial chamber to meet the eldwyr host. Taun grabbed one of the eldwyr by the wrist and wrenched its arm around in a full circle. Wood, bone, and flesh were all torn asunder by the vicious attack, and the severed limb became a club.
“You have defiled this world for the last time!” Taun shouted, Axaranth's power echoing in his words. He gripped the arm in both hands and hammered it into another eldwyr like a flail. The ferocious power of the blow shattered both weapon and target, casting them down in ruptured heaps.
A larger eldwyr tore another chunk out of the door and raised it overhead in both hands. It lunged toward Taun and swung its heavy weapon down at the top of his head. The savage strike would have instantly killed Taun if it connected.
But Axaranth prodded him to move to one side. The jagged stone shard swept past Taun's left side and slammed into the tomb's floor so hard it shattered into dust. Before the eldwyr could recover, Taun kicked it to the ground and brought an axe kick down into the back of its wood-braced head. Green sap and the viscous slop of gray brains oozed away from the crushed skull as Taun shifted position and drove a sidekick through the chest of an eldwyr charging up on his side.
Power surged through the knight. His every breath filled him with pneuma that raced through his body. The mystic energy hardened his flesh and bolstered his strength. He'd become hard as iron, fast as lightning, and deadly as a cobra's strike. With Axaranth guiding his moves, Taun surged through the eldwyr. Powerful blows hurled them out of his path while his inhuman agility carried him under and around their attacks. He had become an iron whirlwind that cast down his enemies as he raced for the staircase.
Your family still lives, but there is no time to waste. I will help you move faster, but there will be a cost.
“I'll pay it!” Taun agreed. The last of the eldwyr fell under a spinning back fist that ripped its jaw away and smashed it into the wall hard enough to pulp its skull.
Be very sure of what you agree to, Taun. I cannot guarantee your safety if we do this.
Taun hoofed it up the stairs to the surface. He'd never felt so alive. He was so drunk with power he scarcely noticed the wounds that crisscrossed his body or the burning pain that flared in his lungs with every breath. He was dimly aware that he'd pushed his body past its limits, but he didn't care. His family needed him. He'd pay any price to save them from the eldwyr.
“Just do it,” Taun said. “You're the one who wanted us to bond in the first place. Why are you getting cold claws now?”
The dragon hesitated for a moment, letting Taun scramble up another dozen steps before it answered.
Because this affects us both. To empower you further will require a deeper bond.
“And?” Taun asked, still climbing at a relentless pace. He'd pay for this later, but for now he ignored the aches and pains spreading through his joints and muscles. Physical suffering was temporary. If his family died because he didn't reach them in time, that torment would stick with him for eternity.
And that may be irreversible. Your body is already damaged. Removing the scale may prove more than it can tolerate.
“I'm willing to die,” Taun said. He'd reached the surface and scanned the forest for any signs of enemies. The sounds of fighting came from the west, and he raced toward it. “My family is more important to the kingdom than I will ever be.”
You are a brave soul. If you perish, I will have monuments built to honor your sacrifice.
“Spend the time and effort on something more important,” Taun said. “Even your great tower crumbled into ruin. My family will remember me. That's all I care about.”
Taun's words rang truer than any he'd ever said. His whole life he'd wanted his father to see the strength inside him, to acknowledge that everything Taun did was for the good of the family. The so-called
flights of fancy that engaged Taun's mind would help the whole kingdom. The others had never been able to see that.
But if the young knight saved his family in a battle, his father would finally be proud. His brothers would see him as a true warrior. They would be sad at his passing, but a hero's death was better than an unappreciated life. With that thought burning in his mind, Taun braced himself for the dragon's bond.
This will sting.
Axaranth hit him like a battering ram. The scale in the center of Taun's chest burned with power. The heat seared his skin and charred away the front of his shirt, revealing the green-glowing scale in all its unwholesome glory.
“Ouch,” Taun grunted and levered himself up onto his elbows. He looked down at the light blazing from the scale embedded in his chest and the ridge of ugly, burned skin that surrounded it. He had no idea how that would ever come out of him. It didn't matter. He'd made his choice, and now it was time to live like a dragon until he had to die like a man.
This way to a hero's pyre.
Axaranth goaded the young man into action. Taun leapt to his feet and shot through the woods with the speed of an arrow. His feet tore the earth behind him as he ran, and where he brushed against the trunks of trees the bark shattered into clouds of dust. Birds took to screaming flight at his approach. The sounds of battle grew louder with frightening speed, until Taun erupted into a small clearing in the wyld to find his family surrounded by a pack of eldwyr hunters.
Shaus, Keelie, and their father had formed a defensive triangle around Raul, who had gone down to one knee. The fallen warrior's breastplate hung to one side, the bindings sliced apart on the other. Blood soaked the ground around all of the fighters, and their pale faces and wide eyes filled Taun's heart with fire.
Show them what it means to cross a dragon.
Taun and Axaranth flashed across the clearing. A spear hand strike plunged through an eldwyr's back and exploded out of its chest. Taun flung the corpse aside, bowling over a trio of other monsters. Another of the creatures tried to twist away from the furious knight, but was too slow to avoid his clutching hands. With a savage roar, Taun raised the creature over his head, one hand on its hip, one on its shoulder, and tore the creature in half. He flung the dead creature's corpse at two other eldwyr, knocking them to the ground.