Brother, Betrayed

by Danielle Raver

  “Your majesty, please,” the guard pleaded. “Let us take you to a safer part of the castle.”

  “We need to see where it is going,” Syah said and turned for the inner door.

  “King Syah!”

  The king didn’t pause, but explained as he quickly walked into the hall, “Gorusk could be in peril. This creature may be capable of much worse than killing a few men.”

  “Let the warriors deal with it,” another of the soldiers, one of Syah’s, implored him as they followed him through the halls leading to the main doors.

  “No one here has any idea of how to deal with it,” Syah cautioned, starting down the stairs. “Swords and axes may do little good against it.”

  The soldiers desperately tried to get ahead of him as he neared the front hall, leading to the main doorway. “Sire, the beast could kill you. You mustn’t go outside.”

  Syah slowed his thoughts. If they see him driven by youthful curiosity then they will probably try to prevent him. The young king searched his feelings. Is that why he desired a view of the beast? He convinced himself that there was a more significant reason for his involvement, but he must convince his guard as well.

  “A Gorusk leader does not hide in the shadows. You can protect me from invasion of an enemy, or treachery from within, those are things that kill a king. But kings are not killed by strange, powerful beasts.”

  “But it could be an indistinguishing, unintelligent monster, solely intent on the death of mortals. It could pay no regard to your stature or your destiny.”

  “If it is so crude, then it will be easy to devise a defense against it,” the king argued and resumed his direction for the entrance to the castle.

  “But my lord, it is our duty to protect you,” a soldier countered as they scrambled around him again.

  “It is your duty to protect Gorusk, is it not?” Syah demanded, stopping and facing each of them. They hesitated. “It is my duty to protect it as well. And I cannot do so if I do not know my enemy. If you must protect me, then come with me.”

  They had no more entreaties for him, but they did not leave his side as he quickly went to the door and opened it to the morning light.

  As they stepped outside a horde of soldiers met them, gathered at the door. They seemed to be scuttling to create a defense at the entrance to their castle.

  “It has landed to the east of the castle!” was shouted from the edge of the soldiers, who had not noticed the king join them.

  “Let’s join the others and drive it off together!” another shouted.

  “Six of you stay and guard the entrance,” Syah commanded and they turned to find him with starched faces. Syah spoke before they could express their concern for him, like the others. “The rest of you come with me, and we will see how we will deal with this beast.” He watched them hesitate, about to deny him. “Well, what are you waiting for? Gorusk needs you!”

  “Yes sir,” they responded dutifully and obeyed, some taking up stance in front of the entranceway and the rest starting around the newly built castle. Syah joined them, his soldiers surrounding him, still.

  As they rounded the corner of the gray walls of the castle, they heard the sounds of a preparing conflict; men shouting and moving, and a great groan of earth underneath shifting weight. But then they heard a sound that made their blood dash like frightened fish. It was something between a roar and a scream, but its volume made that comparison almost impossible. The soldiers, and even their eager king, bent and almost were forced to cover their ears from the terrible sound. The sound’s intensity lessened before they were driven to it. The sound returned, deepened as it echoed against the mountains in the distance. Only Syah among them paused, contemplating the strange quality of the sound echoing and reechoing against the peaks around them, and the eerie, lingering trepidation it caused. The others gathered their courage to surmount the corner and gain view of their foe. Syah’s attention returned as his soldiers began again, slower but steadily rounding the corner.

  They came to view the expanse behind the castle and discovered the source of the sound, but all they perceived was an immense, grotesque bulk, twice as high, three times, as the familiar forms of soldiers they saw before it. Syah trembled, gazing at this unknown entity riling half in his sight. He had the distinct impression that his witnessing such a beast was aberrant, almost forbidden, and the only reason he was allowed a glimpse to such a fantastical creature was because something was amiss in the world.

  “It’s about to attack!” someone shouted and Syah’s senses returned. He cleared his vision and analyzed the creature, finding its front, figuring its strength by its girth and menace of its flashing claws.

  “Take up position in front of the creature, fortify the perimeter,” Syah commanded and he forced his gaze off the creature to check the preliminary soldiers’ positions. His soldiers were nervously holding up raised swords and spears towards the beast, but apparently no strike had been dealt, for no soldier lay wounded on the ground.

  The remaining soldiers approached their target. As the soldiers surrounded it, the crouching mass became more agitated. Then the silhouette of a massive form whipped and rose above them, dark with the bright light of the morning sun behind it. A neck like a serpent rose up as the beast straightened to its full height with a momentous growl. Great wings clapped open, casting a shadow over the gathered group of soldiers. But as its scream filled the desolate sky, energy joined the scream from the beast’s jaws. It was a ripple of heat, hint of flame, and a roar of a thousand fires.

  The men, armed and trained as they were, faltered beneath the beast’s fury. All were overcome by the terror, clutching away from the sight, branding no coward among them. Weapons shook in unsteady hands, positions were abandoned, murmurs were uttered as they stepped backward, feigning to run. The horrifying beast grew louder, more dreadful, and it turned its anger back towards them. All of them raised shields or armored forearms in attempt to defend against the imminent destruction the beast was about to hurl upon them. All hid their eyes from the terrible sight, save one. Syah, their king, stood and gazed at the creature within its fury. He knew, he remembered… The pennant. His hand reached for his neck and recalled he no longer wore it. But its absence only deepened his awareness. The beast stretched its wings further and balanced itself high above them.

  Syah remembered. Standing before the southern mountains with his brothers, children’s stories. Chancing upon a sketch or passage in some forgotten text, and the White Cane dismissing it. The healer dwarf, with his perceptive eyes, returning the pennant to his hand without any movement. He had been right. They were real. Dragons.

  “Destroy it before it can attack!” one of his soldiers shouted. A snap of duty, or at least self-preservation, went through them, and sent a sense of dread through Syah. He saw his men pulling back bows and raising spears, then looked to the beast, lowering its massive body to defend itself. It would devour them.

  “Wait, hold your fire!” Their king commanded, putting himself between the ready soldiers and the beast as it returned to the ground. Syah had a moment to view the creature, its massive head, large liquid gold eyes, and two great horns atop its head. Before the beast could decide him as a threat and attack, Syah turned his back to it, facing his agitated soldiers and holding up his arms for them to stop. Startled with his action, they prepared for a quick rescue of their ill-disciplined king from the creature’s attack, but their response was delayed, seeing surprise or hesitation in the beast’s movements.

  “King Syah, act with caution, move behind us slowly,” a soldier near him ordered with nervous, tremulous concern, rather than rush to seize him.

  “Fear not,” their king told him, his voice steady but not forceful, “the beast will not harm me.” His proximity to this strange beast gave him an authority that was wild, strange, and unpredictable, and they were unsure how to respond. Their king seemed confident and unafraid, so they waited. Syah glanced back at the creature, its gaze was towards hi
m and it too seemed to be waiting.

  “Step back,” the king ordered the soldiers as he turned to them again, “give the creature some space. Trust me. Step back.” Syah made a herding motion with his hands to persuade them to comply. Figuring that it could be the only way to save their young king, they moved away from the beast, but continued to hold their aim and vigilance.

  As his men moved away from them, Syah could sense the creature’s anger lessen. He turned around to meet it, for now the creature’s purpose must be revealed, for good or ill, and it was Syah’s responsibility to deal with it. Syah moved back as he faced the creature again, but not with an air of fear, but respect and diplomacy. The creature in turn relaxed its stance, releasing its claws from where they were dug into the ground. It straightened its bulk from a crouching position, which would have allowed it to spring forth with all its strength. Then the creature gradually folded its wings and raised its head.

  As it did, Syah could discern its form better. Thick, large scales covered its form with a dull gold luster, reminding Syah of links of armor, and pale gold spikes wove across its back and down its long tail. For an instant, the king discerned an imperfection across the beast’s chest; great slashes of faded red across the thinner scales of its torso, indications of some wound. But the dragon shifted and hid the area from sight. Atop its enormous head rose two golden spikes, and one was obviously broken, apparently from a recent conflict. The human king surmised that these wounds were dealt elsewhere, for he knew that no weapon his soldiers possessed could have delivered such injuries. Then he realized the creature’s eyes were staring at him, and he felt a chill fear attempt to grip him, sensing their unknown power and a hidden intelligence behind them.

  Syah forced himself to not look away, and tightened and straightened to keep from shivering. He considered whether he should try to speak to the beast, and for a moment he contemplated using an ancient language to attempt communication with it, but then decided to use the common language of humans, “You will not harm any more of my men.”

  The beast moved its head to the side slightly, almost as a snake does when locked on a target, but made no other action, apparently understanding Syah’s tone if not his words.

  “I don’t know why you came to my kingdom, but if your desire is to leave then we won’t prevent you. I don’t believe that your purpose was to cause harm, but I promise you, if another of my soldiers falls then I will find a way to defeat you, and you will never leave this land alive.”

  The beast let out a growl and his soldiers started for him as the dragon lowered. But they held, again, when the beast did not attack, holding its large head close to where Syah stood. Syah tried not to panic, feeling the eerie and forbidden sensation but stronger now, like when nearing some wild beast. The king’s mind recalled other instances when he had felt this way: approaching Fasime’s dark and wild steed - and a forest wolf starting from the darkness to gaze at him. This apprehension was the stem of what he felt now as the mighty beast stared at him, it only worsened by its unknown purpose and obvious power. Syah almost recoiled, as the times when he had encountered a wild beast, but he didn’t allow himself. It has intelligence, he told himself, and therefore it is subject to reason. The king tried to regain his courage as the growl faded with a long exhale. The breath was strained at the end with a soft rasp, indicating, again, that something was wrong.

  It is intelligent, the young king chanted to himself as the beast’s head neared a man’s length from him. But those thoughts were doused as the dragon stole Syah’s attention with its gaze. Syah stiffened, feeling as if the sun or the moon had turned its eye upon him. He felt he gazed at a sentient being, as perceptive and prevailing as the ancient soul of a celestial body. The king gasped, no longer able to deny his fear. The knowledge and endless experience in the creature’s eyes devoured his courage. Syah saw the universe of light and depth in them, and his own reflection was a mere wisp of time and space before the vastness of all. But this knowledge, this power, overtook his being and fixated its attention on him fully with condescension.

  The young king realized himself, standing before this ancient beast, trapped by its gaze, and realized the physical threat he now faced. It wasn’t a threat of pain or death, but dissolving into nothingness before the immensity of the cosmos. His soldiers watched him stiffen and falter backward. They saw their king succumbing to fear, but now they could not come to his aid, for the beast would have him before they could prevent it. They whispered courage to their young king as he began to shake, but misjudged his fear for what they themselves were feeling.

  Its eyes. Its burning, golden eyes. It was the sun, a burning eclipse of the sun, but he could not look away. He felt his eyes moisten and tried to blink away tears. A terrible wind gusted against him and he raised his hands to protect himself. The hot, tearing wind worsened and he was forced to lower his head and lean forward to keep from being blown back. He knelt down, clutching his chest, unable to breathe or move, but he made his gaze rise to find the beast, its severe judgment crashing upon him.

  This storm was to destroy him, disintegrate his existence into a thousand scattered flecks of dust. He was nothing, he was a speck, a flicker of shadow cast by a passing light, a fleck of ember cooling, fading beside the bonfire. But still, he fought. The storm was pain, terror, and death, and though he bent before it, he refused to let it break him. It was his feeble will against the monster before him. How could he survive? The beast’s ferocity strengthened, determined to squash the last bit of resistance the young man had. Syah lowered further. He felt close to a swoon. The pain burned and penetrated, touching the king’s core. He tried to cry out in defiance as he felt the storm of wind and light about to take him, but the power of it held his breath. It was there, in his heart, wrenching his soul, consuming his last bit of spirit and identity. It found, instead, a dark, hard despair and that it could not take it away from him.

  The power faltered and Syah looked back into the beast’s gaze. For a moment, as its hold retreated, the king’s mind followed it back to its source and found a glimpse of commonality there, the same sorrow that the beast had found in his soul.

  Syah blinked. He relaxed the muscles in his chest, releasing and taking in a tremulous breath as he tried to understand. He had never looked away, had never kneeled, there had been no storm. He still stood before the crouching beast, but it began to withdraw. Then he remembered what he had sensed in the dragon’s core. His eyes narrowed and he peered into the beast’s gaze, still intent on him. What does it want?

  Syah was startled as the dragon’s powerful mind turned on him again, but he reminded himself of the shared shame he had sensed and remained calm. But then he felt a pain in his head and his eyes widened. The pain became a great pressure and he began to shake. He grasped his head with both hands and cried out, but the pain only worsened.

  “Sir!” “King Syah!” the soldiers shouted, but Syah heard something else as well. It was an echo of thoughts and a confusion of voices, but they were all his voice, one voice, one thought. Freedom. Or was it revenge?

  Syah looked to the dragon’s eyes. It was his voice. He lowered his hands, though his head still ached, and released a contemplative, shaky breath. He gazed into the depth of its knowledge and power of the dragon’s eyes. He sent a thought forward, towards the place that he had touched, the familiar pain.

  Why are you here?

  The pressure in his head immediately returned. Hurt. Fear. Defeat. Syah resisted the urge to cry out as he clasped his head in his hands again. His ears began to ring and he doubled over in pain. But as he felt his head was about to explode, he felt the thoughts slow, condensing.

  This was not my intention.

  The king looked back to the dragon, trying to breathe the pain and tension from his body.

  You are here because you are wounded.

  The pain returned but was worse. This was anger. The king cringed, but was able to withstand it as he focused on the message within it. />
  Yes. The waste of this land is suitable for my retirement.

  Syah turned his head, the pressure was still there but he was able to ignore it.

  You had to have known that the Gorusk warriors wouldn’t allow you near their city.

  The anger Syah anticipated was not expressed. He watched the dragon look over to the soldiers farther back but still surrounding them. The dragon’s gaze shifted to the dark, sharp peaks to the north of them. Syah nodded. Being near their city was not its intention.

  We will let you leave with no further harassment. And, if you need time to heal, you are welcome to stay.

  The dragon tilted, narrowing its eyes.

  Do you desire a dragon’s head to add to your throne room?

  The king shook his head.

  I have no reason to end your life. If they can assist you, I will give my men the order to stand down.

  The dragon seemed to smile.

  There is no medicine you possess that can save me. It is a mortal wound.

  Syah looked down to the beast’s abdomen, now hidden from him.

  How can that be? You are barely penetrated.

  The king gasped and grabbed his chest. He was being shown the wound, being taken to it, but he felt its impact within his own form. He saw, deep inside, a tear in some vital organ with blood draining from it. Syah felt the agony, the weakness, inside his body and he was unable to stand it. He thought of his own experience of a serious injury as he collapsed. We could find a way to help you. Syah struggled to communicate as he sent forth memories of the Arnithian soldiers tending to his wound and the mysterious healing techniques that had been used with him in Gorusk. The dragon withdrew the experience of his wound as the king neared losing consciousness.

  “King Syah!” the soldiers shouted as they came to him. Syah gathered himself and tried to stand. As he felt his soldiers grab his arms he looked back to the dragon. Tell us what we can do.