by Dante Doom
“Sang, that can’t be right. Sang, this… we can’t destroy this game. I put my entire life into this game. Everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve has been related to Dragon Kings of the New World. There’s got to be some other way, right? Maybe we can convince the government to use it to train people for the military. I know they wanted to use it for that, right?”
“Look, Van, orders are orders here. The higher-ups made their decision a while back. I never told you because things were getting too heated and you didn’t need the additional pressure. But now, before we dive into another serious mission, I need you to be emotionally prepared ahead of time.”
“Emotionally prepared? Sang, how do you emotionally prepare for the destruction of your home? Of your entire world? This isn’t like some stupid hobby of mine is over, or my favorite restaurant has closed down—this is far worse!” Van ranted. She could hear that he was quickly becoming unhinged. “This is the only place that I have ever known true freedom! Inside this game, you can do anything, become anything. You have a world of possibilities! How can you ask me to do this?”
“I don’t know, Van,” Sang replied. “I really don’t know what to tell you. I think the brass was very careful to skirt around this issue, so I think I’m breaking some rules by telling you this, but you deserve to know.”
“What would you do if everything that you knew and loved would be destroyed by your actions?” Van demanded.
“I would carry on with my duty anyway,” Sang replied. “Because my job isn’t about me. It’s about something far greater. I know the idea of living without this game scares you—”
“Living without this game isn’t living at all!” Van interrupted. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to march back in there and willingly end the life of the thing I love the most.”
“You sound incredibly angry right now, and I get it,” Sang said. “I really do...”
“No, you don’t! You have a life outside of this game. You have a real job with real people to report to. You have an apartment that’s not the size of a cereal box. I’ve got nothing outside of this game!” Van shouted.
Sang took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that I had to be the one to tell you. But you’re going to need to sort this out before we go in there. We can’t have you compromised.”
“I… why didn’t I notice this before?” Van asked quietly. “There’s no way I’m this dense.”
“Sometimes people don’t see things because they don’t want to see them,” Sang said. “That’s why Draco’s so good at getting people to excuse their atrocities.”
“What do I do?” Van whispered. “I can’t let them destroy the world, and I don’t want the government to destroy my world. What do I do?”
Sang sighed. “You’ve got to choose, Van. You’ve just got to choose.”
There was nothing but silence on the other end as Van hung up. Sang felt a shiver run down her spine. What would he choose?
Epilogue
The thunder cracked in the sky above Kylian. He glanced up to see that the storm clouds had aggressively moved over the camp. They had been waiting for Van for nearly two days. Players waited in shifts, but over time, it was becoming clear that Van and Sang were gone. Were they dead? There was no other explanation—they would have contacted him by now if they weren’t.
After the fight against Lemuel, Kylian had been forcibly kicked out of the game. When he’d logged back in, the entire forest zone had been gone. There was no explanation, and no patch notes—it had just vanished, probably for good.
“Still nothing?” Bidane asked as she walked up to Kylian.
“Nope. Not a thing,” Kylian replied. The camp’s remaining players were in the process of packing up. The Iron Dragons had lost a great number of players during this little adventure and, without Van to convince them to stay, they were losing more people with each day. The core team was still around, however. Kylian, Bidane, Capello, and Sahara had all pledged to stick together until they could find out what had happened to Van.
“Well, I hate to be the one to say it,” Bidane said, “but it’s time to call it. Two days and nothing? They’re either dead or they quit the game for good. Either way, there’s no reason to stick around. The camp’s decided to move to the south, to fight in some good old fashioned Dwarven wars. I suggest that we go with them.”
“Why bother?” Kylian asked. “This game is some kind of death trap. Bidane, I felt real pain in that zone. Dolly just got out of the hospital, and you were close to dying in there, too. Do we really want to be here? Do we really want to deal with all this for a video game?”
“I want answers,” Bidane said. “But you don’t get answers from staying still. So, we’re gonna move around and learn as much as we can from other players. Listen for rumors, try to figure out if anyone else knows about Draco being some kind of weird alien thing.”
“You keep talking about aliens,” Kylian said as he shook his head, “but I don’t buy it. It’s gotta be some kind of government testing. This whole game is probably some kind of mad experiment they’re running.”
“You didn’t hear what I heard,” Bidane said. “Draco is up to no good and they aren’t in league with the government. Dolly will back me up if she ever gets back into the game.”
“If she’s smart, she’ll stay far away,” Kylian said as he began to move with the rest of the players to file out of Bloodrock. Getting out of this area was far easier than getting into it had been.
“I want revenge,” Bidane said. “I swear to God I’m going to have it.”
“Why?” Kylian asked. “Why go to such lengths to fight against these guys?”
“You know, I’ll tell you something,” Bidane said. “A long time ago, I was trapped in a relationship with someone who tried to control me. He tried to hurt me really badly, and for the longest time, I let him. Then, one day, I snapped. I broke free and I made sure he wouldn’t hurt me ever again. I swore that I wouldn’t let anyone control me again. These Draco bastards? They want control, Kylian. They want it really badly. And I’ll be damned if I let them own me like my ex-husband thought he did. So that’s why I’m going to find these jerks and kill them. Because they want to rule everything, and no one rules over Bidane. Not Sang, not Van, and certainly not Draco.”
“Cheers to that, I guess,” Kylian said as they walked down to where Sahara and Capello were waiting for them.
“When are we going to kill something?” Capello asked. “And when’s Van gonna get back? I miss him—he always knew the best places to go on a spree.”
“He’s not coming back, kiddo,” Kylian replied. “I think we’re on our own for now.”
“Are they... dead?” Sahara whispered.
“No idea,” Bidane said. “And it’s not worth worrying about anyway. Come on—we need to move south.”
As the party moved past the massive walls of Bloodrock, something caught Kylian’s eye. It was Jet, Sang’s pet dragon. He was gently flying through the air. As soon as Jet spotted him, he flew down to meet Kylian.
“Hey there,” Kylian said. “Sorry, buddy, but I think your mom’s not gonna be around anymore.”
“I have no human mother,” Jet replied.
“I’m sorry, what?” Kylian said as he took a step back. Jet flapped his wings and hovered above him.
“I said I have no human mother,” the dragon said.
“You’re speaking? Words? English words?”
“I speak your language, yes. My fears are to be confirmed then? Have Sang and Van been slain?”
Kylian shrugged. He had no idea how this thing was so intelligent, and there was no way it was an AI. Artificial intelligence didn’t have the ability to contextually respond like that. But how could it be a player? That didn’t make any sense, considering that being a dragon just wasn’t an offered option. “I don’t know if they’re dead or not, but we’ve lost all contact with them.”
“They were in danger in there?”
“Yes,” Kylian said. “It was s
erious danger, too. Some kind of lizard guy.”
Jet didn’t like that. He began to grumble to himself in a strange language that Kylian couldn’t identify. It wasn’t any language that he had heard before. “I see, well, it is to be expected that they are dead then. A shame, for I had such high hopes for them. Do you still have control of your mercenary forces?”
“Um, yes, we do. Look, Jet, what exactly are you? Are you a player? You can’t be an AI—you’re far too advanced.”
“I assure you, Kylian, I am something far, far different than what you can imagine. Call those whom Van trusted over here. I wish to share something with them.”
“Oh, I, uh, I’m not sure—” Kylian began to stammer, but then he was fiercely interrupted by Jet.
“I did not ask! We do not have the luxury of time to decide such trivialities! Bring them here!” the dragon roared.
“Sure,” Kylian said. “Sahara, Bidane, Capello! Over here, now!” The three turned to see Kylian waving them over.
“What is it?” Bidane snapped.
“Oh, is that the dragon? He’s gotten so big!” Sahara said as she rushed over to see Jet. As the four gathered around the dragon, he looked back at them carefully.
“I should hope you are prepared to learn a great deal of things in a very short amount of time. The fate of the entire world now rests upon your shoulders.”
“What the hell? It talks?” Bidane asked.
“It does a lot more than that,” Kylian said with a heavy sigh. And with that, the floor beneath them collapsed and the leaders of the Iron Dragons Mercenary Company found themselves drifting in space, where they would be taught the darkest secrets of Draco.
End of The Black Dragon
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BLURB
In a time of darkness, unlikely heroes will rise.
The once-peaceful kingdom of Torvald has been ravaged by evil magic, forcing Riders to forget their dragons and their noble beasts to flee to the wilds. Now, anyone who dares to speak of dragons is deemed insane and put to death. Into this dark and twisted land, Saffron was born sixteen years ago. Blessed with the gift of dragon affinity, she has been forced into a life of exile, secretly dreaming of a normal life and the family she lost.
Scholarly and reclusive, Bower is the son of a noble house on the brink of destruction. His mission is to fulfill a mysterious prophecy and save his kingdom from the rule of the evil King Enric, but all he wants is to be left alone. When he meets Saffron, Bower gains a powerful ally—but her magic is too wild to control.
Their friendship might just have the power to change the course of history, but when the Dark Mage King Enric makes Saffron a tempting offer, their alliance will be shaken to the core.
Get your copy of Dragons of Wild from
www.AvaRichardsonBooks.com
EXCERPT
Fire, Blood, and Sword
The Salamander Prophecy:
“Old and young will unite to rule the land from above. Upon the dragon’s breath comes the return of the True King. It will be his to rebuild the glory of Torvald”
Vance Maddox
The city is in uproar. I have never seen the like—even in the old days when the wild dragons would raid from the north. Never has there been so much terror, so much bloodshed and so much anguish. Screams fill the air as people are thrown from their homes. The ringing of bells, the call of the Dragon Horns, and above it all the fire and shriek of the agonized, enraged dragons.
Another beam from the roof splinters and explodes in a shower of sparks on the flagstones at my feet. I dodge to one side. Through the gap in the tiles above I see the red and orange scales of something vast and threatening. The dragon tries once more to get at us inside—to get at me!
“Protect the prince!” I call to the guards, all of them Maddox men and women like myself: tall, light-haired and pale-skinned. They have that rangy look those of the Maddox line never seem to quite outgrow.
“Captain!” The guard chief gives me a quick, stern nod. Gone are the smiles and the fine tunics that marked this small group of bodyguards as ambassadors. We’ve all thrown aside finery, replacing it with the hardened steel and iron armor of my family.
A hissing roar comes from above. The red-orange dragon once again throws its weight onto the roof. We can all hear the intake of its breath like a giant bellows.
“Flame shields,” I call, falling to one knee and holding up the specially-treated oval shield over my head, and not a moment too soon as a firestorm bursts into the hall from the dragon.
One of my guards is not so lucky. He screams and the stink of burning hair and flesh choke the hall. The dragon’s fire is fast, incinerating him in seconds, leaving ash floating on the air.
The flames last only a brief second, but already my arm aches from the force of the dragon’s breath. Maybe my brother and late father were right—how can any human live near such dangerous beasts, let alone build a city underneath their nests? This is the day that my brother, Prince Hacon Maddox, has decided to overthrow the rulers of Torvald and seize it for himself. May the storms guide me; I have sworn to help him.
“Up! Up and to the prince!” Lowering my shield, I stand and leap forward, knowing we have only a little time before the orange and red dragon will be able to breathe fire down on us again. I catch a glimpse of the charred armor of the soldier who has died, melted now into slag. I don’t even know his first name.
No time for misery or cold feet now. We run through the long hall, feet pounding and armor rattling. Above us, dragons pound at the roof and walls and roar. Luckily for us, but not so lucky for Torvald royalty, this palace has been designed to withstand rogue dragon attacks. Its many halls are reinforced stone, shot through with metal bars. The king and queen’s best protection will become their prison.
Turning a corner, we face the next phalanx of Torvald guards, all wearing the imperial red and purple of the Flamma-Torvald household. Scars show how many battles they have fought, and their stance is that of fighting men and women.
But Flamma-Torvald, for all of its might, for all of its fame throughout the Three Kingdoms, has grown soft. The Maddox clan hails from the furthest east some generations ago. We’ve fought every tribe, every bandit and every upstart warlord between here and the ends of creation. The people of the Middle Kingdom have no idea what we can do—or what strange and terrible things we have already done.
“Death to the traitors!” shouts one of Flamma-Torvald guards, throwing his longsword forward in a jab that would have skewered me were it not for my reflexes. I catch and turn the blow, spinning to step inside the man’s guard.
A kick to his solar plexus sends him back. He falls, sprawling onto the floor. My second-in-command dispatches him with a solid thrust of his blade. The battle is fast and hard. I spin and parry. I hack until my sword no longer connects with armor and tissue and bone. Half my guard has been slain by the time we’re done, but all the Flamma-Torvald troops have fallen under our blades. My men and women look as though they have been drenched in red by the time that we finish, and I lean on my sword, panting.
“Sir?”
Looking up, I see one of the women of my guard pointing to the brick dust and mortar raining down from above us. She is right. We don’t have time for even a breath.
Ahead of us is our goal—wha
t looks to be the ornate, wooden double-doors of the throne room. All this carnage has been planned months in advance by Hacon, my brother by our late father—and by me as well. Hacon and the Iron Guard are to be inside the throne room, seizing the king and queen, while I lead a group of soldiers through the palace halls to deal with any Dragon Riders we might meet.
Hacon has said the people of Torvald have no chance against us. I’d thought that mostly bravado. It is only now, standing outside the doors of the throne room with blood dripping down my blades that I start to believe. How long have I heard him and father rail about the day we would take the city? I never truly believed it possible.
Even now, I can hear Hacon’s shouts. ‘They are abominations! Dragons are evil, vile creatures—and they have enslaved the entire Middle Kingdom through their control of House Flamma-Torvald!’ Our father never tired of repeating those same rants.
Why should I feel uneasy now?
The twin doors of the throne room open. Two of the Iron Guards step out, their full-plate suits looking like the scales of dragons and gleaming in the torch light. Behind them, I see the opulent throne room of House Flamma-Torvald. A ring of the Iron Guard surrounding King Mason and Queen Druella Roule.
The carpets of the throne room seem washed in blood. Bodies of the royal guards lay hacked apart. The stench is almost unbearable. Looking at the blood, my stomach clenches and turns. It wasn’t meant to be like this. It wasn’t meant that so many should die. What have we done?
From behind his prison of blades, King Mason shouts, “How could you? We welcomed you to the citadel! We gave you a home!” I hear tears in his voice as well as anger.
My brother, his black hair revealed with his helmet off, walks to the window. Outside, dragons swoop through the sky as the city burns. Just a scant few years ago, we came to this citadel with our Iron Guard as a fine gift for the ‘glory of the dragon-king.’ King Mason had been pleased then, giving us high places at court, installing our Iron Guard at every city gate and guard house. Little did he know this day would come, when our gifts would spring into action under our orders, seizing power and delivering the city to us.