The Starry Skies of Darkaan (Realm of Arkon Book 6)

by G. Akella

  Ice Blade! Tongue of Flame! Sidestep to avoid George's sweeping wing. Ice Blade...

  "Beetles!" Reece hissed into the channel. "Twenty of them! Fear them, dar! Embrace the dark side!"

  Even in a voice made deeper and tougher by the combat form, the mage's voice dripped with mockery. What a jackass! I thought to myself as I popped Aura of Horror. Large chunks of ice started falling from the sky, shattering against the rocks with ear-piercing racket. To my right, the dragon was hanging off of the boss' underbelly. The stench of rot and ozone permeated the air. The monster struck with its spiked pincers with speed and precision—most of the blows I caught with my shield, only sometimes feeling the searing pain of an unblocked blow. Ice Blade! Tongue of Flame! A cool healing spell from Raena washed over me. Ice Blade...

  "On the rocks!" Kan Shyom bellowed. Consumed with my simple rotation, I missed the moment Atrylus burrowed into the ground. Cursing my own inattentiveness, I rushed to the nearest boulder, then felt the ground underneath me heave as I lost my footing and fell to one knee. The ground cracked, then widened, as the boss' hideous head emerged from right under me. An inhuman pain gripped me, plunging my HP bar into the yellow. You bitch!!! Seeing only red, I escaped the chitinous mandibles with a forty-yard Jump before collapsing on the nearest boulder, completely drained.

  "He starts breaking the ground from the second attack! Keep alert, and move right away!" The knight-commander's voice was as calm as ever, but it was all I could do to not howl from the pain. Two heals in quick succession restored my health bar to full, allowing the rage to swoop in and disparate the fog before my eyes. Bastard! I stood there for five seconds, teeth clenched, watching Atrylus crawled out of the ground and pounce on Kan. Then I rushed the enormous insect, popped Infernal Rage, and started beating on the cracked chitin in a frenzy. Ice Blade—crit! Ruination sliced through the blackened side with a crunch. Tongue of Flame—crit! A brown-green gunk began spilling out of the open wound. Ice Blade—crit! The boss' body convulsed violently, then toppled over to the sand with a crash.

  You've earned a unique achievement, Atrylus' Slayer. Atrylus is a unique boss that can only be killed once. You and your allies have been granted a permanent 2% increase to your physical and magic damage.

  My last blow hit an already lifeless carcass. Breathing heavily, I wiped my blade on a rag, slid it into its scabbard, and slowly shift my eyes to Xahrien's lair. Strange—the Azure Dragons hadn't fought this cockroach, at least to my knowledge. Then who was waiting for us inside the cave? The bone dragon's twin brother?

  "Here, prince. Have a drink and relax!" Kan offered me an uncorked clay flask. "I have seen things in my life, but that look in your eyes is giving even me the shivers. And that doesn't happen often, I assure you."

  "You'll get used to it," I smiled wearily, accepting the vessel from the knight-commander. "This bunch is already used to it," I nodded over at Reece, taking three deep swigs and nearly breaking into a coughing fit—the liquid burned my throat like pure rubbing alcohol.

  "What the hell is this?" I handed the bottle back, wiping the tears from my eyes and struggling to keep my footing.

  "A dwarven beverage—good, strong stuff," Kan smiled, accepting the vessel, then pointing to an inscription upon it. "Brewed from some kind of special cones and aged for a good half-century or so. Makes for a fine sedative and painkiller. Best drunk in small, careful sips, but I see that demon princes need not be so careful."

  Was that... a joke? Kan—developing a sense of humor? Hot damn! Still, the knight-commander hadn't lied—I was already feeling much better, and barely able to keep an idiotic smile from my face. Those mountain cones must be special indeed.

  "Don't misunderstand master prince, uncle," Reece butted in, as expected. "That look he gives has a purpose—to send us mortals scattering in all directions. And, with respect to me specifically, to hold on to my ears!" The mage covered his ears with both hands to illustrate his point. "Now, would it be too much to ask for one of those magic bottles? I'm dying to try it myself, but I'd definitely save some for auntie! And even leave a bit for our prince for when he gets that look in his eyes again..."

  The knight-commander smiled again. Twice in the span of five minutes? This was unprecedented... Had he drunk the magic potion himself or something? He'd long stopped responding to "uncle" as a term of endearment, but to up and smile like that for seemingly no reason...

  "Here, young padawan!" smiling for the third (!) time, the knight-commander handed Reece the bottle. "But don't overdo it, you hear me? Even the dwarves have been known to strip down to their socks and stage naked round dances around their anvils after they've had too much. As for the lady, she should steer clear of it altogether. This stuff just isn't for women." He turned to the contemplative Vaessa, winked at her, and looked back at me. "I've got another dozen bottles in stock, earl. Once we're out of this place, we'll have ourselves a party."

  And here I thought this one was a lost cause, Jaelitte sniffed in my head. But no! Turns out he's decent enough fella!

  Still feeling a bit dizzy and oddly estranged from everything that was happening, I tried to listen to my inner self, just to be on the safe side. Nope, no desire to strip and dance. Praise Hart! Oh, but what was this world coming to?!

  The entrance to Xahrien's lair resembled an airplane hangar—both in terms of size and shape. I couldn't begin to guess what had possessed the designers to go for such an analogy, but it looked cool, no doubt about it. Following the analogy, judging by the size of the "gate," the dragon that would have to fit through it was smaller than a Boeing 986, and that was sort of comforting. Then again, Velargass was smaller, too, so... In this realm, size definitely wasn't everything. Of course, the stupid thing was that the dragon probably couldn't even fly out of his lair, unless he desperately needed to for some reason. And I doubted that anybody dragged him in tow using whatever those airfield vehicles were called. More likely, he simply walked out of here on foot. I mean, he had to eat, didn't he? It was only in fairy tales that dragons bathed in their mountains of gold and jewels for years on end, but you couldn't well eat metal, now could you? Not even if you're a dragon. And what else is there to eat in a cave? Mold? Mushrooms? Mushrooms... And cones! Ha! Man, this stuff Kan had shared was the bomb! My mind was swimming, just like during the conversation with Velargass, if not more! And there was no way of knowing when I'd sober up, either. If nothing else, this was rather innovative prep for our battle with the Boeing 380... Boeing? What freaking Boeing?! Stay here, waiting for my jumbled thoughts to get straightened out? I wasn't sure I could force myself to sit still. No, we were going to keep moving down this enormous tunnel in search of adventure. I could see now why the brewers of this swill would dance after whetting their beaks. Or did they sing? Dang it, I don't remember! And if Kan and I were still looking fairly presentable, Reece, on the other hand... He too had taken a swig—a victory toast of sorts—and clearly began feeling it soon thereafter, while in the process of extracting gooey-looking stuff from the boss and his insect minions.

  Speaking of Atrylus, the beast hadn't dropped anything of note. A pair of epic leather boots and chestguard, both level 150, a bunch of rare quality crap, a couple of recipes, several dozen vials and a bit over six hundred gold. But anyway, as soon as our resident mage felt the sinister influence of dwarven cones, he immediately tried to get George to guzzle the magic elixir. And, to his credit, the dragon seemed perfectly amenable to the idea of taking a few sips, but then his mommy got involved. Instead of pontificating on the harm and damage alcohol consumption may cause underage dragons, the magus simply promised to finally make do on my promise to cut off her nephew's much-tormented ears. And then tongue. And also tail. And then move on to the rest of his, and I quote, "junk." I did wonder if Vaessa even realized what a double entendre she'd just pulled off... Probably not. Through it all, Kan and I stood there with perfectly somber expressions, though my lip was bleeding from how hard I was biting it to keep from laughing. I'd eve
n put my helm on. Finally, gathering all my will in my fist, I gave the order to keep moving. Up ahead was the lair! Behind me I heard Reece propositioning Raena to conduct some ritual called Union of Cold. The fact that she hadn't killed him yet was comforting. And he seemed to have recovered some of his faculties, to the point of shuffling along after us and giggling at everything in sight. Now, I was neither stupid nor crazy to rush into battle with my mind a jumbled mess. Once we reached Xahrien, we would halt outside his aggro range and wait till everyone sobered up. But the cave was empty thus far. Icicles shone down from the ceiling, and the walls were covered with familiar moss and water streaks. The air was chilly and scented with... Not so much a physical smell but a sense of doom and death. It wasn't the stench of rotting flesh, and not even of long-decomposed bones. I had never been inside a dragon lair before, but wouldn't it smell of the decomposing remains of his meals? It was only Velargass and her spouse who could chill on their platform and somehow discard the leftovers somewhere. Then again, I did remember seeing bones lying in the vicinity...

  The entrance to what looked like the lair's living area was framed by crystals radiating a soft, dark green glow. I stepped through the arch first, and froze in amazement, while a whole number of things happened behind me: Kan cussed, Raena sighed, and Reece fell silent. And for good reason. Lying at the center of the huge, stadium-sized cave were the bones of a gigantic dragon. The skull of what was once called Xahrien stared into nothingness with lifeless eye-sockets. The beast's wings were shattered in many places, and the gaps in the ribcage were large enough for a New York City bus to drive through. The scene was eerily beautiful, yet deeply unsettling.

  Yes, players came to these places seeking great rewards and glory. But this here dragon, he had been no more than a game mob. He had never razed a city to the ground, had never devoured sentients out of sheer cruelty. He had simply waited here for a party to come and kill him—that had been the fate written for him. And then the Azure Dragons came and did the scripted Heroic Deed. They killed a puppet. Why am I upset at that all of a sudden? Was it the dwarven concoction? Far be it from me to judge anyone after all the creatures I'd killed. Still, the world had changed, and dragons were now actual dragons! And this one would have fought for his life to the bitter end. Personally, I was keeping my options open coming here. If I come to an agreement with the beast instead of killing him, why the hell not? But that was a moot point now—the dragon was already dead, at least in this pocket of reality. Now for the passage into the hall that was our actual destination...

  The lightning situation in the cave was lacking, so I didn't immediately notice movement near the skull. Moments after, a baby dragon emerged from behind it and headed toward us, waddling comically. The creature was level 320, no name displayed above his head, though the bar was an ominous red, and the spitting image of George. Had the Azure Dragons missed an egg hidden in the cave that had hatched after its parent's demise, and was now out for revenge? And the stupid system had confused the hatchling for the dungeon's final boss and sent us here to take care of it?

  In the meantime, the dragon drew within twenty yards of us and, in defiance of all aggro laws, bent his head like a duck, peering first at me and then at Kan, and hissed furiously. The next instant, he charged right at us.

  "Don't you dare!" Vaessa's cry pierced the air.

  The necromancer's daughter jumped out from behind us, shoving Kan aside as he attempted to block her way. A dark web-like shadow smashed into the attacking baby dragon. Stopping him dead in his tracks like an invisible wall. The dragon crashed and fell to the ground, still boring us with blood-red eyes filled with animus. Kan cast a puzzled look my way, lowering his raised sword most reluctantly. I shrugged, equally puzzled. But what happened next only added to our bewilderment. Vaessa came forward toward the creature, with George following right behind her, nearly knocking me over with his bulk as he passed. When the necromancer's daughter halted, the pet did as well, then spread his wings like an eagle and froze. A trail of dark smoke appeared, connecting his chest to his mistress. Intrigued, I stepped around the dragon for a better view. Leaning over the paralyzed mob, the magus grabbed his jaws and opened them—with some difficulty—then snatched her Hanteryon's Claw, made an incision on her wrist and began pouring her flowing blood into the creature's gullet. George started, spreading his chick-like wings even wider. The HP bars of the paralyzed dragon, the magus and her pet linked to her by some strange spell all began to shrink. A healing spell that fell on her almost instantly had absolutely no effect. The eyes of Celphata's high priestess filled with blackness, large beads of sweat forming on her brow as her health bar dwindled down to half. For Hart's sake! She's going to get herself killed! I whipped out my sword and stepped forward to finish off the paralyzed dragon, but just then a searing pain shot through my arm. Then there came a soft chuckling sound, and it was all over.

  The HP bar of the spellbound dragon turned from red to green, and another heal from Raena restored Vaessa's HP to full. The magus clasped the prostrated dragon's muzzle with both hands and turned to me, panting.

  "Thank you, Krian... But... I need a name, quickly! This is a girl..."

  "Lola!" I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, then shook my head with annoyance while sheathing my weapon.

  "Lo-la!" Vaessa echoed in a gentle whisper, tenderly caressing the spiked muzzle.

  The cave trembled as four green letters manifested out of thin air over the dragon's head. Another quake followed, a stronger one. I felt the world go dark before my eyes, my nostrils suddenly assaulted with the scents of pine and freshly cut grass...

  Daar Princedom; Eastern Borderlands, Scorched Grounds; Laetan Barony, Eastern part of Tyremian Wood; zone level 200.

  "Here comes another adventure!" I heard Reece cackle behind me.

  But I wasn't there anymore. I was standing in the middle of a cool forest at night, breathing in the crisp air and basking in the starlight filtering through the tree crowns.

  Chapter 6

  What was that? I inquired mentally of my wife, gazing at the twisting tree trunks while trying to keep my voice as level as possible under the circumstances.

  Whatever do you mean, dear? Jaelitte asked in surprise.

  Don't act stupid, please, I said evenly. It doesn't look good on you!

  No, dear, my wife parried at once. It's not I who's acting stupid, but you. And it doesn't look good on you anymore than it would on me. She held a small pause, then added, as if doing me a favor. If you're referring to that winged toad, that was me strengthening your squad. Indirect influence, you might call it—I know how you like all those fancy terms. And your necromancer won't have any objection to rearing said toad into adulthood. Just look how ecstatic she is!

  And those succubi—I began to say, but Jaelitte interrupted me half-sentence.

  The same exact indirect influence. Providence prohibits me from lending you direct aid, but every so often I see a loophole, and I take advantage of those.

  Providence, then, I sighed, watching Reece and Raena set up traps along the meadow's perimeter.

  Indeed, Jaelitte said with total earnestness. And you mustn't mock it. For as long as I'm stuck in this hole, I cannot help you in any meaningful way, but only with trifles. The exchange with my father, and now this toad. You'll need to wait until I'm back in my true form.

  Thanks for clearing that up.

  Anytime, sweetheart...

  Her voice still buzzing in my ear, I turned to look at our newest find. The "find" in question was looking rather discombobulated, much like its new mistress standing nearby. Like a pet dog being taken for a walk, I chortled to myself. There was a classic painting to that effect, with the lady likewise wearing a beret—the main difference was that the dog in the painting wasn't anywhere near the size of a grown horse. George wasn't in the best of shape, either, by the look of him. Everybody's HP bar was full, so this must have been some other type of recovery. I suspected that the magus had
shared a part of her soul again. I need to have a talk with that animal lover... But really, I was more upset with myself for doubting a freaking high priestess of the goddess of death. Taking a deep breath to subdue the rage rising from within, I pulled off my helm and stashed it into inventory. It wasn't bothering me or anything, but I still felt as if breathing was easier without it. Seeing my emotional state, Vaessa lowered her eyes to the ground like a schoolgirl having been caught cheating.

  "I'm sorry, dar," she said quietly, trying her best to sound remorseful. "I know that I have no right to take such risks. The Mistress—"

  "What's your mistress got to do with anything?" I cut her off, trying to keep a calm tone. "What did you hope to accomplish there?"

  "A Mistress of Death, having summoned one dragon, is capable of taming another one," Vaessa looked up at me, her eyes twinkling with defiance. "And I was certain I would succeed!"

  That was when my rage broke.

  "And did you?!" I roared at her.

  "Master prince!" Reece hurried to step in. "You've been telling us stories about some mother of dragons, remember? So, how can you blame auntie for getting inspired and wanting to become one, too? Sure, in your story there were three dragons, but here you can't have more than two! I admit, Lola is a scrawny one, no doubt, but the mother from your story must have breastfed them, yes? So, maybe that's what auntie should do here? I know it may be tricky at first, but what if it works?!"

  I looked at the mage, totally lost at his words initially, and then...

  "Oh, of course," I waved him away, barely holding back laughter. Then I started toward Kan, leaning against the trunk of a tree standing on the edge of the meadow.