by Ravek Hunter
So far, the only frustration he had with the great beast was that it required frequent rest to recuperate its strength. The downtime allowed Tephras the opportunity to understand its abilities better, delving deeper into Belthagore’s shattered mind to discover hidden secrets, if he could be patient. Unfortunately, patience was not a quality the Demon possessed in abundance, and he often compelled the Dragon far beyond its limitations, physically and mentally exhausting the poor creature. Tephras expected that word would go out about a rampaging Dragon in the Wilds and heroes would be sent out to entertain him. At least they would be a small challenge to his voracious lust for killing and death. Except that he did not plan to wait around for them.
Tephras enjoyed terrorizing the lands around his lair for several more weeks before he decided it was time to test his host with more challenging prey. The wild boar, deer, and occasional hapless human had become tiresome quarries. The Dragon’s energy, magic ability, and life force were fueled by the unrestricted fury the Demon channeled into his host. To keep his anger hot, Tephras needed to amplify the scale of death and destruction to increasing intensities of violence if he was ever to regain the potency he lost while imprisoned in that insufferable pithos. Once he was back to his full strength, with the power of an ancient Black Dragon as his host, he would be unstoppable.
Tephras searched the memories of the Dragon to learn more about the geography farther away from the lair and soon determined his course would be to the south. There was a Tarre city known as Pherti only fifty leagues away if he flew over the mountains. It was settled by hundreds of humans who would be ripe for feeding his need for killing and burning. The decision made, Tephras needed no time for preparation. He launched the Dragon from his lair, guiding him south, eager to reach his destination before dawn.
Flight over the high, bitterly cold mountain peaks covered by snow was devoid of turbulence as he rode the smooth flows of air at his back. They pressed him forward with little energy of his own. Tephras was pleased. At this rate, he would arrive above Pherti earlier than he expected and with lots of vigor to carry out the violence he planned.
Through the Dragon’s night vision, he could observe the details of the mountain range below. It was teeming with wildlife and the occasional hunting camp occupied by humans crowded around a fire. Tephras was tempted to dive and kill them all. It was an enticement that he nearly found impossible to resist, except to give into it would leave the Dragon too exhausted when they arrived at Pherti. That was where the Demon would find his true pleasure and satisfaction.
The hours dragged by until Tephras could finally make out patches of land cleared of trees for agriculture and livestock. The Dragon’s stomach rumbled at the sight of sheep and goats lying in the soft grass tended by a few scrawny humans. Far in the distance, he could make out the dark silhouette of Pherti. Forgetting about the sheep, Tephras approached the city at a very high altitude to avoid the chance of being seen. It was still several hours before dawn, and there were very few lights on except for the occasional torch carried by a soldier that patrolled the wall. The Dragon had excellent night vision, which Tephras enhanced further with his magic. He wanted to see every detail, to locate any ballistae or catapults that might threaten him later. He quietly circled the city, noting how much of it was built with wood and earth rather than stone. This city will burn, he thought with glee. Turning away from Pherti, Tephras angled the Dragon in a wide arc that would take him close to the ground and put the mountain behind him to conceal his approach.
This was what he was waiting for. The past several weeks stuck in that cave getting to know his host and regaining his strength had left him desperate for this moment. Flying low and fast, he rushed toward the wooden palisade set atop a massive earth embankment. There he saw a cluster of several soldiers neglecting their watch. They would be the first of many to die this night.
A spray of fire engulfed the men and the portion of the wall where they gathered. The only terror they knew was that they died almost instantly, never knowing why or by what cause. Tephras would remedy that. He wanted panic and fear. He wanted every soul in Pherti to suffer and endure the terror that he brought before they died. Rising higher, the Dragon split the air with flame, randomly setting fire to as many of the wooden structures as he could on his first pass. When he returned to the streets among the burning buildings elevated on wooden stilts, dozens of people were gathered outside to escape the flames of their homes only to find themselves consumed by the same death they thought to flee.
Those that survived knew the terror that they faced, and they ran screaming.
Tephras reveled in it all and continued to make pass after pass. Hundreds died, and hundreds more scattered in random directions, frantic to avoid the Dragon’s inferno. Pure chaos had taken control of the populace, and not even the militia could organize a resistance. The soldiers ran as surely as the others and burned brightly in their polished bronze armor. The humans made his work too easy with their streets arranged in a quadrangular pattern that allowed him to fly straight and fast. Idiots.
Despite his success, Tephras stayed aloft, raining fire down on the inhabitants below. As much as he wanted to land and tear a few of them apart with his claws, he knew that was when a Dragon was most vulnerable, and Tephras had not survived five millennia by acting foolishly. More, the Dragon was beginning to tire. He flew to a higher elevation to inspect his work. Most of the city was ablaze, the city walls, the temples, the merchant’s stalls, the residences and government structures—all were constructed with wood. The wooden stilts that supported them were burning, and they collapsed into other structures next to them, spreading the fire. There were smoldering bodies everywhere, and the cries of grief and pain played like beautiful music to his sensitive ears, which inspired him to inflict further devastation. It delighted him that without any more effort on his part, the entire city would burn to the ground before dawn.
The only part of the Pherti left untouched was the palace structure on the southeast edge of the city. It too was surrounded by a wooden palisade and elevated higher than the rest of the city. He would have to be careful not to linger over it too long. No doubt they witnessed the carnage in the lower city and were better prepared to mount a defense. And the advantage of surprise was lost. Tephras cast a few protective spells on the Dragon, then climbed higher, circling closer to the palace complex.
Tephras dove hard and fast toward the palace grounds. He was going to set fire to the palace complex first before he went after the other structures around it. Perhaps he could chase a king out and set him ablaze in front of his subjects. His enhanced night vision revealed that there were men on the wall, many of them, and they were armed with bows and spears. Then he was spinning off to the side to evade the crackle of lightning from somewhere below. It was followed by several more that disrupted his dodge.
So they want to put up a fight after all, the Demon thought.
Abandoning his plan to fly over them, spraying fire down upon their heads, Tephras cut to the right and flew low to the ground behind the elevated palisade. The humans had foolishly left the other parts of the wall unguarded. When he appeared again, flying fast from the west over the palisade, he found the humans gathered together in confusion, unsure of the direction he went. Perfect. He laughed. I have them now.
Sporadic flights of arrows flew by him or bounced off his shiny black scales. Hurried casts of lightning from what he could now see had to be priests crackled and sparked at the edges of the shield he had prepared earlier. Their concentrated fire might have harmed him severely before, but now it was too late. Tephras felt the Dragon inhale deeply, felt the cold air that would feed the fire fueled by oil from the glands that he pressed together, jetting out liquid heat that burst into flame as it exited his toothy maw.
The people tried to run, and he watched them burn. Some did escape, but they had no thought to turn and fight. The only ones to hold their ground were the priests, a small group of them off to one s
ide that his flames did not touch. They were moving their arms together, preparing a cast. Tephras flew over them and toward the east as fast as he could compel the Dragon to go. The lightning ripped into him from behind, so much of it that it tore through his shields, singeing his tail and wings. The pain was excruciating, but his course did not waver. The damn priests would not get another shot at him.
Tephras sensed that the Dragon was exhausted and had to rest soon. As much fun as he was having, the Demon didn’t want to kill or cripple his host and turned him away from Pherti, flying back across the river and toward the shelter of the mountains. He remembered the sheep he saw earlier and thought they would be a fitting feast for the Dragon that he pushed so hard this night.
He found them quickly, and several of their number, including the humans in charge of the flock, died quickly for his meal. Then he flew the tired Dragon a few more leagues away from Pherti. There he found a secluded wood where he could rest and tend to his wounds. Attacking cities is dangerous business, the Demon supposed. But very satisfying.
Tephras allowed the Black Dragon that was once known as Belthagore to rest in the forest for several days. Even at this distance, he could smell the smoke of death and ruin floating on the gentle breeze from the direction of Pherti. He considered what he would do next. Certainly, Tephras could return to Pherti and finish off the palace complex and kill those priests, but they might be more prepared next time, and he didn’t want to risk further injury to the Dragon. The word probably had spread to cities to the south by now as well. His compulsive desire was to kill and destroy. However, he would not indiscriminately expose his host to more danger than was necessary. Tephras knew his best chance of enjoying the greatest success was when his prey was not expecting him.
The Demon was not driven by a desire to conquer or rule anything, nor did he care to hoard loot. The thing that drove him was an absolute need to satiate his rage and anger with death and violence. For now, that meant seeking his prey randomly and in places as concentrated as possible—cities, villages, and trade caravans on the roads.
Feeling rested again, Tephras flew south toward the sea once night fell. Along the way, he set ablaze several isolated villages and killed anything that moved between them. Tephras steered the Dragon wide around Pherti and avoided Fondo, its closest neighbor to the south. No doubt they knew about him by now. He traveled only at night now, allowing the Dragon to rest during the day. By the time he reached as far as Coni, on the Bodin River, Tephras was sure that his rampage to the north was but a questionable rumor that would become terrifyingly real to the inhabitants in the south soon enough.
The Dragon’s long-distance vision revealed Coni to be a much larger city than Pherti, with a high defensive wall constructed of stone and fired mud brick. The buildings were similarly made with combinations of stone and kiln-fired brick with some timber. From his high altitude, the Demon could make out regular patrols on the walls and throughout the city as well as tradesmen, merchants, and the citizenry strolling casually near the busy taverns and food shops. Considering the substantial defenses, Tephras decided that this city was not worth the risk and elected to destroy more villages farther along and continue his southern route toward the coast. There he would find ports with very flammable ships and fishing vessels with lots of timber to burn . . .
A few days south of Coni, Tephras found himself flying along the coast where the mountains met the Great Sea. Continuing south and west, the Dragon’s memories informed him that he was entering the realm of Rasna, and the high mountains on his left were known as the Spine of Cel, after their earth goddess. If he continued along the coast, he would soon have the port city of Funa in sight. With the Dragon well rested and full of energy, Tephras was feeling a distracting hunger to burn and kill. He wasn’t craving food—there had been enough goats and trail deer to satisfy the Dragon’s physical hunger. Now he wanted to satiate his base desires. He maintained his course south.
Just after midnight, the Dragon’s keen eyes spotted the city lights of Funa in the distance, and Tephras was delighted. Although Funa was constructed much like Coni, the city included a modest port where there were ships that would burn. That was where he would strike.
Tephras didn’t delay. Within an hour a dozen ships were ablaze, and sailors, merchants, and servants ran in terror in every direction. Just like Pherti, the people were taken completely by surprise, and what followed was chaos and death. Tephras was growing stronger and was in the full frenzy of bloodlust.
A few sailors with powerful longbows sent arrows against him, but the Dragon barely felt their sting, and none of them were powerful enough to pierce his scales. Only when spellcasters joined the defense did Tephras realize he had stayed long enough. With great reluctance, he flew south into the darkness.
The Dragon was tired, although not exhausted like he had been in Pherti. The Demon’s host was growing stronger with him. Soon, even the best-defended cities would be vulnerable to his rage. A little while later, Tephras found a natural cave along the coast that would serve as a good place to rest and heal his wounds. Tonight one of the spellcasters managed to strike him with a lightning bolt that left his right front claw in peril. Tephras was not an accomplished healer, although he thought he could do well enough to take care of his own injuries.
Landing at the entrance of the cavern, he could smell the stink of creatures that occupied it as their lair. Cautiously moving into the darkness, he was beset from either side by a pair of griffons striking at his scales with razor-sharp talons and beaks that could chop a man in half. Initially, Tephras is not sure if they are trying to drive him off or get out, but it didn’t matter either way. With a few quick moves of his uninjured claw, a final death bite to one, and a crushing tail swipe to the other, he removed the former inhabitants and tossed them into the sea. He could have eaten them, but the feathers were such a burden to deal with that he would rather go hungry until he found something more palatable.
Tephras spent the next few days resting and healing the Dragon’s body, leaving the cavern only long enough to find a few deer and a fat boar to satisfy his hunger and constant desire to kill. Overall, the Demon was pleased with his host, although he was surprised how vulnerable he was to concentrated attacks by humans, especially those who could fling spells. Small groups or one-on-one with anything that crawled or flew, he was more than a match, but these humans with their arrows and magic could be overwhelming. Tephras would have to be more careful attacking their cities otherwise, Belthagore’s head might be decorating some idiot king’s throne room, and Tephras would be looking for a new host.
Chapter 22
Ἀτλαντίς
Recovery
Qel awoke in a room that he did not recognize. It was a chamber grown in the style of the Elves, to be sure, but it was not the inn where he was staying in Avalon City. He shifted his weight to have a better look around, and an excruciating pain shot down his right leg and up through his abdomen. Wincing, he readjusted back to a position that caused the least amount of pain. The thorn, he thought. At least that proves I’m not dead yet. Carefully, he shifted his head and eyes around the room. To his surprise and happiness, Havacian was seated in a comfortable chair not far away, asleep. The dim light globe that illuminated the room was the only source of light, and there was no window for him to guess the time of day or night.
Qel decided to stay quiet and not disturb his friend. As much as he wanted answers, he was satisfied that they were both alive and safe. The answers would come soon enough. Besides, he was still so tired. Nearly asleep again, a thought jolted his mind back to awareness—where was Aelrindel? Starkly awake, he ran through his mind what he could remember about their encounter with the Old Haig. In the end, he couldn’t remember anything after he lost consciousness . . . except rain. There was something about rain.
“Qel? Are you awake?” The sound brought him back to the present. It was Havacian speaking to him. How long had he been daydreaming?
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p; “I am. Are you OK?”
“Yes. I am exhausted still, and my throat hurts from the smoke, but I’m none the worse.” Havacian’s voice was hoarse and wavered when he spoke; he needed as much rest as Qel did.
“Where is Aelrindel? Is he OK?” He noticed his own throat was sore from the smoke as well, but he needed to know what had become of the elf.
“That one?” Havacian smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think two Old Haigs could have stopped him. After you passed out, I brought rain to stop the fire and cleanse the air. Aelrindel cut through the dead branches to get to the body of the Old Haig and removed her head for good measure. Then we checked you for injury and found the wound in your hip. He left immediately for Avalon to retrieve a healer.”
“Where are we now?” Qel tried not to shift too much to look at his friend.
“We are in the Grove House still, in one of the bedrooms on the second level.” His friend seemed entirely unperturbed about remaining in the house where the spiders and mud creatures and the Old Haig had almost finished them.
“Nobody minds that we are here?” Qel felt uncomfortable about sleeping in someone else’s bed uninvited, no matter his injuries.
“We checked most of the house.” Havacian lowered his voice. “There is no one left alive that we found, and we found only a few of them.”
“Maybe they are hiding.” Qel was hopeful.
“Maybe,” Havacian was doubtful, “Aelrindel thinks the spiders took the rest to feed on. Their remains will probably be found in some isolated place in the house.”
“That’s dreadful. I hope it’s not true.” Qel could imagine the horror since he had almost been among them, and he wished fervently that they would be found unharmed. “So we wait?”