by Eden Redd
Dorian grunted out a yelp as his back hit the wall and he crashed down on the floor. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he fought to stand up. The statue stepped toward him, hand out. It grabbed him by his leather jacket, hauled him up and pinned his back to the wall. Dorian cried out and pain welled up. The statue curled fingers into a fist and slammed them into Dorian’s ribs. Eyes bulged as two ribs cracked. The statue pulled back and punched him again, the two ribs breaking.
The young lord let out a haunting chuckle and spit blood into the statue’s face. “Death has come in the shape of my father,” Dorian said with mad glee.
The statue reared an arm back and hesitated, turning its head to the room entrance. Nypha stood in her half dragon form, green eyes on the bloody spectacle before her. Dorian looked to her as fear and relief took hold of his soul, a dark insanity bleeding into her face. In one moment, time stopped and Dorian could see instinct and stark madness storm through the dragon woman.
The dam of time cracked. The flow of the universe was restored as Nypha bent her legs and launched herself. Claws lengthened as wide eyes turned into narrow slits, greenish fire leaking from her mouth. The statue let go of Dorian and turned toward the incoming dragon.
“Nypha, you do not belong here!” The statue shouted just as the dragon woman was on it.
Nypha didn’t even hear the words as she crashed into the statue, claws slashing against stone. Grooves appeared as Harris slammed a stone fist into her chest. The force of the blow knocked Nypha back a few feet before clawed feet dug into stone and she launched herself again. The statue used its forearms to block each strike but Nypha’s tail whipped around, the sharp point cutting a deep groove into the side of Harris’s armored head.
Dorian watched as Nypha went blow for blow against the stone construct. The dragon was screaming, fire bursting from her mouth and slamming into the statue’s face. Tail whipping about, she slashed again and again as Harris took hold of her arms. Stone fingers dug into her armored forearms, clamping tight while legs began to push. Nypha spit fire point-blank into the statue’s face but it seemed to have little effect as Harris pushed the dragon back with each step. Nypha raised a clawed foot and brought it down on the statue’s knee, cracking it. It wasn’t enough as Harris slammed Nypha against a wall and held her there.
“This is Dorian’s lesson. Leave before I kill you,” The statue said in a calm voice.
Nypha heard nothing as she pressed her clawed feet against the cavern wall and pushed. Muscles flared as Nypha growled like a monster unchained. Cracks formed along the statue’s arms as the dragon woman glared. A clawed hand broke free and slashed downward. Claw marks appeared on Harris’s armored chest but the statue fought to contain the dragon.
“You have made him weak,” Harris Lockwood said as he regained his grip on the dragon, lifted her up and threw her.
Nypha flew across the room, crashing into the stone throne and shattering it to rubble. Dorian lurched to his feet, pain flaring as he gritted his teeth. The statue stalked toward the dragon as she slowly made her way back to her clawed feet. Mouth open, a burst of fire blasted out and struck the statue dead on. Greenish fire exploded and a blackened form stepped through the dying flames.
“Dorian run!” Nypha managed as she closed the distance to the statue of Lord Lockwood.
The statue and dragon exchanged claws and stone fists, blow for blow. Nypha could not contain her inner fire as she slashed her claws against the magical construct. The statue continued to fight, face blank and body cracking. The room shook from each blow, dust and debris raining down.
Dorian picked up Splitter and turned to the statue and Nypha fighting like titans. Xoli’s words floated into his mind, strike at the heart and you will know victory. Memories and thoughts flowed together into a raging river of knowledge. Strum, Xoli and his father planned this. They brought it all together to teach him. They wanted him to take what they taught and use it not for himself, but the kingdom. Dorian stared as Nypha fought like an animal, trying to protect him. Heat pumped into his muscles as he watched the dragon he loved fight for him.
Harris Lockwood reared back a fist and slammed it into Nypha’s chest with such force, the entire room shook. The dragon stumbled back and fell, body crashing into the destroyed throne.
The statue of Harris Lockwood stepped forward, gray eyes on the dragon woman. “I had hoped you would not interfere but what you have done was destroy my valuable lesson. Dorian will never know how to unlock Splitter’s potential because you could not keep your love chained. He will always be in your shadow. If he dies, it will be because of your actions!”
Nypha was about to push off the rubble as the statue stalked closer but her eyes widened in disbelief. A glowing sword point burst outward from the stone chest of Harris Lockwood. The statue looked down at the blade protruding from its chest and the blade twisted. The statue fell to one knee, turning its face to the side to see Dorian standing behind it, one hand holding the sword and the other holding his side.
“Sorry Da,” Dorian said with wet eyes.
The statue rose up, turned and grabbed Dorian by the shoulders, the blade point inches from his chest. Nypha was to her feet but froze as Dorian gazed into the statues gray eyes, a tear streaking down his cheek.
Harris’s carved face saddened as he looked to his living son. “Dorian, you have grown up and this shadow haunting this stone body can see what a fine man you have become. I wished to only teach you to unlock Splitter’s abilities. The words carved into the throne would have opened their power to you but now they are lost.”
“Da…..” Dorian whispered.
The statue tilted its head forward, shadows covering its gray eyes, “You were never in any real danger. You are my son. Wounds close and bones heal but even in this form, I could never take your life. I have lived a hard life and not all my choices have been good and just. I learned from my mistakes and pressed on, as will you. I wish you a good journey.”
The statue reached behind its back and took hold of Splitter. The blade was pulled from the back, arm twisting around and holding it sideways to Dorian. The young lord took hold of the sword and sheathed it, pain causing him to wince.
Harris turned slightly to Nypha, “When love is true, it is stronger than any kingdom.”
Nypha and Dorian watched as the statue knelt down and bowed its head. The cracks along its surface widened. Energy flared for a moment before dying like a low burning candle. Cracks grew and the stone form of Harris Lockwood crumbled before their eyes. Dorian and Nypha stared at the rubble, the magical energy in the room dying and the torches burning low.
Thirteen
The cavern was silent. Dorian kept a downward gaze until his legs began to tremble. Strength giving out, he slumped to his knees. In a blink, Nypha was at his side, holding him up as he held his ribs. The pain had grown and the young lord was finding it difficult to ignore.
Nypha’s warmth rose up and caressed the young man. Dorian turned his gaze to the half dragon and gave a weak smile. Nypha eyed him, concern written in her brow. A swirl of words stormed through her heart but nothing was said. The warmth between them bloomed and Dorian found himself leaning his back to her chest in profound comfort. Nypha held him close, ensuring she was careful of his broken ribs. The two sat in the dim torchlight, basking in unspoken feelings.
A small light appeared atop the ruined statue beside them. Eyes turned as the glow brightened and then died away, a small vial nestled in the jagged rocks. Nypha reached over and picked up the vial, a clawed nail stabbing into the cork and pulling it out. Pressing the edge of the vial to Dorian’s lips, he drank down the liquid in several gulps.
Liquid heat surged from Dorian’s stomach. The lord took a sharp intake of breath as broken bones glowed under his skin, knitting back together. Nypha held him, feeling the potion continue to repair his body, one cell at a time. The dragon snuggled her cheek to his hair, breathing in his scent and resisting a sigh.
&nbs
p; Dorian felt bones slide into place and soon the glow was gone. Touching the skin over his ribcage, the bones had mended but there was still pain when he moved. Dorian guessed that the potion healed the major damage but did not heal it completely, perhaps another reminder that not all damage can be erased.
Without a word, Dorian pulled Nypha’s arms from around him and he slowly stood up. The dragon woman looked up, watching him as he stepped past her and walked to the destroyed throne.
Dorian knelt down and sifted through the rubble. Eyes searched while fingers dug through broken stone. With every passing moment, a dim panic touched his mind. Without the mystical words for Splitter, the sword could never be used as it was intended. The kingdoms along the Tower’s Edge would soon know of its limited ability and test him further to determine if he should rule or not. Despite besting a dragon, Dorian’s father taught him that a victory is fleeting but your mistakes can last a lifetime.
Nypha stayed seated, watching as Dorian dug through the ruined throne. Worry touched her heart as she gazed to the lord on his hands and knees, trying to figure out a secret that she mistakenly took from him. Doubt stabbed deep as she replayed Harris’s words. Dorian was never in real danger. His father had to pretend so his son would fight to his true potential. If she had not entered, then he may have overcome the test. Dark thoughts continued to spiral as the question lingered in her mind, never to be answered. She interfered and now Dorian had to pay for her mistake. His life was so small, he wouldn’t have eons to discover hidden secrets. She ruined his chance and her eyes watered in response.
Dorian stopped sifting through the cracked and jagged stones, shoulders slumping. “I will have to figure out another time how to unlock Splitter’s secrets.”
Nypha slowly stood up, a tear streaking her cheek, “I did this. I ruined your chance to secure your power.”
Dorian turned to the beautiful dragon woman, “We didn’t know it would happen this way.”
Nypha looked away, “I failed you.”
The lord stood up and faced Nypha, “You didn’t….”
The dragon cut him off, “I did. This was a mistake. I should have left when my oath was finished.”
“Nypha, please stop. The statue was going to be victorious.”
The dragon woman shook her head slightly, turned and began walking toward the entrance. Dorian followed, walking up to her side.
“You can’t take this all to heart,” Dorian said with a comforting tone.
Nypha stared forward as they walked the tunnel, “I have caused many problems to your kingdom. My family arrived and disrupted your celebration. A suitor chopped off your hand and nearly killed you. Now, I destroyed your chance to learn the secret abilities of your father’s sword. I have become chaos instead of your protector.”
“Nypha, the world never works out the way you think it will.”
The two continued to walk until they stepped out into the bright sunny day. The horses looked up at the lord and dragon. Birds chirped and clouds floated high in the blue sky.
Nypha turned to Dorian, a profound sadness in her eyes, “I have done enough.”
“Nypha…..” Dorian began.
The dragon woman looked up, her body shifting and growing. Lord Lockwood watched as her feminine body enlarged. Scales sprouted and covered her entire body as her neck lengthened. Black and green scales shined in the sunlight, a gray streak of scales running along her majestic neck. Horns shifted back and snout grew, giving her face a pointed appearance. Wings spread out and before Dorian could get a word in edge wise, Nypha leapt into the air and gave a mighty flap.
The lord watched as Nypha pumped her wings until she was high enough. Catching a gentle thermal, Nypha turned her serpentine body upwards and flew off.
“Nypha!” Dorian shouted to her, watching as the green and black dragon flew into the brilliant azure sky.
***
Jyda stirred. The shadow elf reached over and her eyes opened. The bed was empty and shafts of sunlight peeked through the thick curtains. Jyda lifted her upper body and glanced around. Her bedroom was also empty, no sign that Titus was ever there. Soreness crept up from between her legs and the shadow elf smiled, knowing full well the general was indeed there for the night.
Legs swung over the side and the shadow elf stood up. Yawning and stretching her arms, a pang of hunger let itself be known. The shadow elf stood up and walked over to her closet so she could dress when a faint memory touched her mind. Jyda turned her attention to her desk covered in scrolls and loose parchments.
Remembering the note from the raven, Jyda stepped over and moved some scrolls aside. Fingers taking hold of the small hidden note, she lifted and unfurled it.
Princess Black Dew, please forgive my haste with the letter in your hands. It will be the last letter you receive from me or any of our people. Our once glorious towns have become empty amid the forests. Our people have gone missing nightly and now many towns stand empty, populations disappearing by dawn. It is no longer safe and many of our people have fled further north. Most will not travel down the Demon Pass for fear of the human kingdoms. They would travel to harsher lands to escape a terror none have seen. There has been talk and whispers of the return of Vongoul. I cannot say they are true or not. Your father has ordered the remaining Shulla to travel north and resettle. As your father’s loyal steward, I must obey but I am sending you one last note to warn you of a growing darkness. My dreams speak of the dead. Pray for our people and stay safe amid the humans.
~ Nigell
Jyda stared at the note. The shadow elf remained calm as her mind began to work. Moving about the castle, she would often hear the servants or guards speaking to one another. In the last few nights, many had expressed concern over not being able to reach a family member. Other times, she heard the guards speaking of the mad slimes emerging from the sewers and their orders to strike them down with fire. The memories stirred as she thought back to when Vongoul was caught and executed for his crimes. He never begged for his life and kept declaring that the human kingdoms must be eradicated, at least until the sword cleaved his head from his neck. Some of her people spoke of how they entered his tower and witnessed the mad experiments he had caged up and conducted before they put it to flame. Her people spoke of the slimes in large jars, frothing like rabid animals where normally, they were docile creatures, content to feed on waste.
A mental tapestry formed and the princess wondered if it was all connected. The image of the desperate shadow elves dragged and executed by Lord Lockwood painted her thoughts as the whispers from Uboria’s people blended together to form a dark threat in her mind.
Jyda turned and moved to her closest, note still in hand. Grabbing a robe, she quickly dressed. Uncertainty colored her thoughts but something deeper cried out for her to speak to someone. Titus came to mind and she cringed internally. If she went to him and others witnessed it, their secret could be revealed. Everything he worked for could come undone. But if she remained quiet, a terrible fate could befall the entire kingdom. There was never a thought of letting the people rot to their demise. Despite her imprisonment, she knew every life could be in danger. It gnawed at her spirit and she firmed her resolve.
The shadow elf pulled the door open and raced down the hall. It was midday and the shadow elf chanced Titus would be in one of his general or captains meetings. Turning down stone corridors and descending levels, she reached the lower floor and spotted several guards in front of closed doors. Fear gripped her as she was about to bring him information that may reveal their secret.
Exhaling, Jyda stepped to the group of guards, head bowed. The guards turned and glared at the shadow elf.
“I must speak with General Strum,” Jyda said simply.
“He is in an important meeting and cannot be disturbed,” a guard sneered.
Jyda’s heart thumped in her chest, “It is very important that I see him. I have information he must hear.”
The guard stepped closer, looking down w
ith hawkish eyes, “Give me the information and I will give it to him when he is finished.”
“I must give it to him directly. Please call him out to see me,” Jyda demanded.
The guard reached up and grabbed her robe by the shoulder. Pulling her close, the guard spoke with a menacing glare, “Listen you dark cunt, give me the information or we will beat it out of you.”
Jyda stood her ground even as fear burned like a bonfire, “I will speak with General Strum, NOW!”
Something snapped within the guard as he raised an armored fist. Before he could strike, the doors opened and Strum looked to the guard and Jyda. The guard let go and stepped back as the other guards stood at attention. Jyda turned her eyes to the white haired general.
“I have need to speak with you. I believe Uboria may be in danger,” Jyda said, her bravery holding on by a thread.
General Strum’s face was a blank mask as he gazed into Jyda’s red eyes, “If Uboria may be in danger, come in and speak of what brings you to this conclusion.”
The shadow elf kept a nervous tremble at bay as she walked into the room to see four of Strum’s captain’s sitting at a table, all eyes on her.
***
Tree branches and leaves whipped by as Dorian’s horse was at full gallop. Driving his booted heels into the mare, he urged her on as he glanced up. The lord could see the full dragon form of Nypha fly higher and higher against the mountains of the Tower’s Edge. Cursing under his breath, he tried to keep up as she skirted mountain tops.
The lord tried to keep himself calm, berating himself that he didn’t say anything sooner. The guilt he witnessed spoke volumes. Nypha had deeper feelings and so did he. Politics and concerns over what others would think only struck at the very foundation of what they felt. Dorian cursed again on how stupid he was to be caught up in so much nonsense when the dragon he desired most meant more than anything he had ever felt before. He had a chance to speak his mind and he put it off, hoping with the power of his father’s sword, he would be seen as an equal and not some whelp that needed to be protected.