Kill the Dragon (Lake of Dragons Book 1)

by E. Michael Mettille

  He slipped past door after door until he found one open a crack. It was dark inside, but even in the dim lit he could make out the lavish decorations. The place seemed fit for a king. He quietly slipped inside.

  Moonlight poured into the room from a window overhead, casting a ghostly glow over everything. It was more than bright enough for Dahltaf to determine the shape in the bed was not the king. It may have been the queen, if not so young. Perhaps he had stumbled upon a princess. He had no idea who made up the royal family of Druindahl, but, based on the grandeur of the room, the slumbering person before him had to be a member. If he were looking at a princess, she would make a fine hostage to help him draw out the king. Getting out of the city alone would be difficult. Getting out with a struggling prisoner would be near impossible. Escape wasn’t an option. If he were going to kill the king, he would have to do it now. He had only the loose beginnings of a plan when a sharp pain erupted in his knee. His prisoner was awake.

  As Dahltaf doubled over, instinctively grabbing for his throbbing knee, Cialia leapt over his back. She almost made it over the top of him, but he maintained enough of his composure to shoot his hand out and grab her leg. Her shoulder pounded into the floorboards a moment before her had smacked against them. The room dipped and swayed as darkness threatened to choke out consciousness. The heel of her foot hammering into Dahltaf’s chin was more instinct than a conscious move intended to disable her adversary. No matter, the big man stumbled back and fell into the bed just the same. Dressed in bed clothes and unarmed, Cialia fled.

  She made it just to the door when a sharp stinging blasted her right shoulder. Her back arched with pain, and her knees buckled beneath her. She grabbed at the throbbing spot on the back of her shoulder and found the handle of a knife. She gave it yank. It was deep. Stars swam before her eyes and dizziness swept over her as she tugged until the thing finally let loose. She had barely made it back to her feet when Dahltaf tackled her back to the ground. He was strong. She felt her ribs cracking as he pinned her arms down at her sides and bore his weight down on her. She cried out.

  The sound of boots approaching snatched Dahltaf’s attention from Cialia. Eight guards with swords drawn had poured into the hallway by the time he struggled back to his feet. With two flicks of his wrist, two knives sliced through the air between him and his new adversaries. The pain throbbing in his knee kept his aim from being as crisp as normal. Still, two guards lay wounded. One fought to pry a blade out of his belly as the other stumbled around with one jutting out of his thigh. Dahltaf drew his sword.

  Six guards attacked. Dahltaf made fools of them. Even with an injured knee, they were no match for his skill. He quickly removed one of his head, slashed another from gizzard to gullet, and ran another through. Then a stinging in his arm, twisted his face up. It wasn’t an expression of pain squatting above his chin. Sure, the shallow cut came with the burning which typically accompanies split skin. However, the twisted expression on Dahltaf’s face just then reflected his anger and surprise. One of the pathetic worms had the gall to cut him. In a flash, he grabbed his dagger with his free hand and slit the guard’s throat before limping toward the remaining guards. His movements were like art, slicing, stabbing, cutting, and killing in an exquisite, though bloody, dance of death. By the time he spied the king standing in the doorway at the end of the hall, the only ones left breathing were him, Cialia, and his true target, Daritus, king of this wretched city in the trees.

  Dahltaf didn’t attack Daritus directly. There was a reason he hadn’t killed the princess yet, and it he didn’t want to spoil it. Retreating to where Cialia desperately fought to crawl away, he grabbed hold of her collar and dragged her back to her feet. The pained groan that ushered forth from her as he hefted her up brought a smile to his face. Her forehead smashing into his nose—along with the stars dancing before his eyes that followed—surprised him. The waif still had some fight in her. Blood instantly began pouring out of Dahltaf’s nose as he tossed Cialia to the side. In that same instant, the king had fired his blade. Dahltaf saw the deadly tool coming as it glinted in the light, but he reacted far too slowly to avoid it. The thing pounded into his chest just below his left collarbone.

  Everything slowed for Dahltaf as blood pumped from him far too quickly. This was it, his last chance to get some form of payback on those bastards in the forest who had decimated his crew. They could revel in their brief victory, but they would be short their princess once he was done. The fading soldier looked over at Cialia. Their eyes met. She was struggling to regain her feet as he was stumbling to the ground. Taking a reverse grip on his sword with both hands, he drove it into her heart. Fear danced a wild jig in her eyes until they finally clouded over. He stared into them reveling in every invigorating moment until her body stopped twitching, and he pushed her lifeless carcass off the bloodied blade.

  “No!” Daritus cried out as he reached Dahltaf.

  Dahltaf managed a laugh as he swung his blade at the approaching king. Too much of his blood saturated the wooden slats of the floor surrounding him for the attack to find its mark. The king easily parried the blow. Then he grabbed a handful of Dahltaf’s hair with one hand before slashing through his throat with the other. The smile never left his face as he felt his body fall away from his neck. Daritus’s pained expression was the last thing he saw before life left him completely.

  Chapter 27

  Clarity

  Pain exploded in Maelich’s head, abruptly halting his advance on the dragon and dropping him to his knees. His sword fell helplessly from his hand as dizziness shifted his equilibrium. Before he had a moment to recover, more pain tore through his shoulder. A moment later, he couldn’t breathe. Something was squeezing him, robbing him of air. He struggled against the pressure, but he couldn’t move. Some force had him pinned down, and it was far too strong for him to overcome.

  “Vile tricks,” he choked at the dragon.

  Helias’ tone remained even as she replied, “I have no tricks, and I am not the cause of your pain.”

  Before Maelich could respond, a man’s face filled his vision. It was a warrior staring into his eyes. Then there was more pain. It felt like his chest was ripping apart as the man’s eyes filled with joy. The pain lasted moments before fleeing and leaving Maelich breathless on the ground.

  Helias’ failure to attack him as he struggled against the invisible force left him confused. Why did she pause? Why didn’t she finish him while she had the chance? “Are you toying with me beast?” he asked.

  Helias shook her head, “The pain you feel is not your own, but you are bound to its owner.”

  Maelich suddenly felt as if he were being filled up, like some foreign presence existed within him. “What is this?” he demanded. “I feel stronger, even wiser. What is this game?”

  Helias’ expression became graven, “Cialia has fallen. You two are one. Your souls are intertwined. Now that she has been relieved of her flesh, she will exist within you.”

  “Impossible. She worships you like a god. How could I be connected to something so vile? The thought sickens me,” Maelich spat.

  “No, she completes you. If you are the day, she is the night. Without her you are half. She makes you whole. Why do you cling to the lies you’ve been taught to believe? Listen to yourself. Listen to her. Ignore the nonsense the fears of men have infected your brain with. You are so much more than what they want you to believe. You must see what you truly are,” Helias implored.

  Maelich thought of raising his sword, but he couldn’t do it. The dragon was making sense. Everything he had been taught was about destruction and death. He had been bred to kill. Why was so much glory given to destruction? How could that be right? When he had returned to Havenstahl, he had brought calm and peace to those he touched. It was as if he brought sweet relief to a painful wound. Yet, Ymitoth had hurried him along as if exercises such as those were unimportant. Isn’t that more worthy a purpose? He had been gifted with this great power. Shouldn’t it b
e used to heal rather than destroy? If Kallum created everything, why was he so quick to decimate his creation? Would any reasonable man smash a chair into pieces simply because it held his weight and gave him a comfortable place to sit just exactly as intended? No logical thinking being would do that. Shouldn’t one presume to expect at least as much from their god?

  “You’re finally using your own mind,” Helias smiled, slightly exposing her menacing teeth.

  Maelich’s tone was full of confusion as he replied, “There doesn’t seem to be an easy answer to all these questions.”

  Maelich continued struggling with these ideas, questions challenging the authority, the truth, of everything he’d been taught. Understanding human emotion was no problem. It was, after all, very human. Shouldn’t the creator of all be beyond that understanding? Was Kallum just some jealous being who created everything simply to have subjects to grovel before him in all his glory, a great king lounging upon his throne as his subjects are forced to constantly beg his forgiveness for being precisely what he created them to be? The idea sickened Maelich, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed the only plausible answer. There was no love, no mercy, only vengeance, suffering, and pain. In that moment of singular clarity, Maelich decided he wanted no part in it.

  “Tell me. I will listen with my heart.” Maelich looked earnestly into the Dragon’s eyes as he continued, “Did Kallum create us simply to worship him? Are we a game for him, weak-minded creatures to terrify, torture, and toy with? Do we exist merely to crawl about the dirt at his feet?”

  Helias’ smile widened as she shook her head, “Kallum, the one you call lord, didn’t create anything. He was created, just as the rest of us were, by Coeptus.”

  He raised an eyebrow, “Coeptus? I’ve heard that name before. Who or what is Coeptus?”

  She chuckled, “Who are Coeptus? That would be the proper question. They are a gathering of what you call souls. They are the creators. Quite simply, Coeptus means the beginning. They are the beginning without end.”

  Maelich’s brow wrinkled, “What does that even mean, a gathering of souls?”

  “Even with your mind, Maelich, understanding Coeptus is beyond your ability.” Her tone became matter of fact, “No amount of explaining will help you understand what they are. They are everything and nothing. You do not know of them, because they have no desire to be worshipped. They do not shout from mountaintops so all might hear their name. On top of that, they know you could not possibly understand them. They are what you wished Kallum to be, perfection. Kallum’s true role is to act as a path to that perfection. Sadly, he has failed in that mission.”

  He scratched his head, “So…then what is Kallum? Is he just a man or some form of wizard or magician? How does he come to be everywhere and nowhere all at the same time?”

  “A man? No.” Helias continued, “He is quite what you would refer to as a god. They were created first, the gods. After we Dragons, that is.” Recognizing the confusion on Maelich’s face, she added, “Yes, I said gods. Kallum is not the only one. They were created to govern this place. They are Kallum, whom you know as the lord, Brerto, who trained you, Kaldumahn, Moshat and Ijilv. Somehow, I feel there was another, but no details remain. I trouble over it at times, but it is not important right in this moment. What is important is you believed Brerto to be some form of immortal man, maybe a wizard. That is merely his guise. His human form allows him to walk among men and spread Kallum’s word without diminishing Kallum’s power as creator and ruler of everything. Would you have feared and revered Kallum if you knew he was but one of a group of gods?”

  Maelich stared far past the rocky walls surrounding him as he digested everything Helias had to say. All he had to say was, “No, I guess I wouldn’t have.”

  “Of course not. I should think the fear of being cast into oblivion had something to do with your belief in him as well. Anyhow, Kallum is very powerful and extremely persuasive. He convinced Brerto that together they would be more powerful and that Brerto should assist him in elevating their power. Therefore, Brerto passed on his bid as the truth, the light, and the way for some group of men in dire need of something to worship, to serve Kallum. I should say that Havenstahl is not alone in her worship of Kallum. In fact, most of Ouloos serves him. Save the city of Druindahl. She worships Kaldumahn and Moshat. They rule together. They are quite similar to Kallum and Brerto in their desire to be worshipped. However, their rule is based more on love and adoration than fear. They also stood against Kallum during the great campaign. If not for them, I surely would have been destroyed and all would have been lost,” the dragon’s gaze drifted toward the same faraway place as Maelich’s.

  The Dragon’s words were making more and more sense to Maelich. He asked, “What of this Ijilv? You left him out. Who are his subjects?”

  “He is something of a mystery. Kallum tried to seduce him, claiming that together they could destroy all the Dragons and topple Coeptus. The idea is completely absurd, but his thirst for power is so great he would destroy everything to satisfy it. His jealously of Coeptus greatly illustrates his complete lack of understanding. Coeptus cannot be destroyed. They are everything. Ijilv was torn. Like any god, power is an aphrodisiac for him. On the other hand, he is great of mind and understanding. He realized that even if Coeptus could be destroyed, that destruction would be his own demise. He chose to bind himself in seclusion and has yet to pledge his allegiance to any cause,” she finished with a shrug.

  Maelich nodded, “So then, what is my role? My entire life has been training to destroy you, and that your destruction would bring balance to Ouloos. If you are not my destiny, then what?”

  The smile returned to Helias’ face, “Oh, but I am your destiny. There is no power on Ouloos greater than Dragon’s fire. However, we Dragons lack the malice needed to wield that power. Even if you were to plunge your sword all ablaze in your fire into my heart, I would not be able to attack you. We were not meant to destroy. But you, on the other hand, have both the fire of Dragons and the blood of men in you. You have the power and the means to use it. You will need it. Do you remember the souls that touched you in The Lost Forest?”

  Again, he nodded, “Yes, they still speak to me, even as I’m speaking to you. What of them?”

  “They are trapped in that place, forced to relive their ends over and over again as they haunt that wood. They want to go home.”

  Confused, he asked, “What does that have to do with me?”

  Helias continued, “The power of Dragon’s fire held open a portal. Think of it as a road, a road back to the beginning. Every time a Dragon was slain, that road, that portal got smaller. It shrunk. At the same time, a fresh bunch of trees sprung up in The Lost Forest. The trees of that forest house the immortal souls of the fallen Dragons. A Dragon’s soul is never meant to return to the beginning. We hold open the portal. That is our role for all eternity. Thus, the souls of those fallen had nowhere to go and were trapped in the trees. I cannot hold the portal open alone, and now it is all but closed. The souls of men are drawn to the forest because they are drawn to the Dragons. They long to return to the beginning. They remain trapped in that dark place, clinging to the power which can no longer end their suffering and send them home. They are prisoners. That is your role. You are their savior.”

  Palms up, he raised his hands and shrugged, “How do I save them? What good is a savior who doesn’t know the way?”

  Helias’ smile dipped into a shallow frown, “Kallum feeds off of the souls trapped in The Lost Forest. Every nightmare they relive is a feast for him. He grows more powerful every moment. He is the door, you are the key, and I the hand that will place you in the lock. It pains me to say this, but your true destiny is to destroy. Your true purpose is to ride the last Dragon against Kallum. His destruction will bring balance, not just to Ouloos, but also to everything. The souls must be freed so they might return home and continue the cycle. I know there is more, but I am unable to see beyond that point.” />
  Something suddenly scurried into Maelich’s awareness. It was barely a thought, more of a feeling, but right at that moment, he knew, “Druindahl is under attack. My mother…we must go.”

  “They are,” Helias agreed, “set upon by the army of the man who raised you.”

  Maelich scanned the cave, “I have to do something. How do I get out of this place?”

  Helias took Maelich’s hand and guided him up onto her back. The instant he was seated upon her, he felt power surge through him. It was intoxicating, flowing through his skin and mixing with his own. Doubt. Could he wield a power so great? He felt he might crumble at any moment.

  Sensing his struggle, Helias coached, “Do not fight it. You were born of the Lake. This power is yours to wield. This is your destiny.”

  Helias flew straight up and then dove straight down toward the surface of the water they had been resting on. Maelich wrapped his arms around her neck. She was faster than any creature he had ever known. That water had effortlessly held their weight. They would crumble on impact. If not, he would most certainly drown. With fear gripping his heart, he squeezed tighter and prepared to die.

  Helias responded to Maelich’s strong embrace, “Relax.” The softness of her voice seemed impossible with the great volume she achieved as she continued, “You are the champion of this world. I would not do anything which might damage you in any way.”

  Their impact was not nearly as spectacular or damaging as Maelich expected. In fact, they passed through completely unhindered. It felt like nothing, like no barrier existed at all. What’s more, the water didn’t slow them in the least bit. Maelich had barely begun to panic at the idea he couldn’t breathe under water when he realized he had no urge to breathe. His lungs didn’t burn. He didn’t lose his body to convulsions. Slowly beginning to relax, the sheer magnificence of what he was experiencing began to sink in. At the speeds they were traveling, the water should have been a frothy brew. However, there were no bubbles and no wake of any sort. The water remained completely still.