by Isaac Hooke
“Where did you acquire this artifact from?” Xaxia asked. “And don’t tell me you inherited it when you took the crown.”
“Oh no, I found it during one of my famous dungeon expeditions,” Goldenthall said. “Back in my adventurer days, I used to hire teams of mercenaries to go on dungeon crawls with me. This one time, I sent my team to the Khroma Mountains, and we made our way deep inside the den of a Black Dragon known as Nosfarious. Most of my team was slain, and I myself narrowly escaped with my life. But not before grabbing the Dark Eye.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “The Dark Eye?”
“Yes,” Goldenthall said. “That is the name of the artifact. I pried it from the hilt of a Balor blade the dragon had in its hoard. Where the dragon got this blade, I do not know.”
“Wait a second,” Xaxia said. “When Banvil died in this world, the sword he wielded was left behind. Vorgon stabbed it into the ground like a tomb marker. Is that what you mean by a Balor blade?”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Goldenthall said.
She nodded. “Then I know what to do.” She still wasn’t really sure she was actually going to go through with what she planned, but she wanted to at least check if the Dark Eye was in the blade.
She turned to depart, but Goldenthall spoke. “I’m going with you.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I thought you couldn’t bear to leave the city?”
“It will pain me, but it must be done,” Goldenthall said. “I have a purpose now, once again. A means to exact vengeance. I refuse to die here. Useless. Besides, Banvil will protect me.” He giggled. “Isn’t that something? I’m protected by a Balor.”
Xaxia was about to deny him, but against her better judgment, she said: “Fine. But if you ever hold me back, I’m cutting you loose. Is that clear?”
“Very much so,” he said.
With that, the pair made their way down the keep.
She wasn’t sure why she had accepted. She supposed the loneliness of the journey was getting to her. It would be nice to have some company. Even if that company was a half-mad former king who was possessed by a Balor.
At least she finally had a way to help Malem.
She just hoped it wasn’t a trick of some kind.
What if I’m only further damning him?
10
Malem rode atop Abigail, who had assumed her silver dragon form. He sat at the base of her neck, tied firmly to the specially constructed saddle. Around him flew the other half dragons. Gwenfrieda rode Solan, Ziatrice sat atop Weyanna, and Mauritania saddled Gannet. Sylfi and Brita had no riders, and they flew ahead, acting as scouts.
The Dothweald lay below. The party had crossed the Harken mountain range, and the Wilden plains beyond, before arriving at this forest. He had spotted no human armies or settlements along the way. The only life he’d seen were wildebeests roaming the plains. That and the tigers and cheetahs that hunted them. Predator and prey alike always scattered upon sight of the dragons. But otherwise, there were no monsters here—the mountains acted as a natural barrier.
The dragons made a complete sweep of the forest from the air to gauge its extents.
Sheesh, Gwenfrieda sent. This forest is huge. It’s going to take us months to find those elves. Assuming they’re even here.
Malem couldn’t sense any elves down there with his beast sense, but that could have been because of the range.
They’re here, Malem replied. And we’ll find them, if it means we have to burn the entire forest to the ground.
After circling the entire extents from the air, which took three hours, still the party had found no sign of any habitation, so Malem had the party land on the northern perimeter.
The dragons transformed into naked humans. They sloughed off the saddles as they transformed, and then retrieved the clothes they’d packed in the saddlebags and dressed.
Malem stared hungrily at the sisters, Sylfi and Brita, and decided he would be taking them to his bed tonight. Sylfi glanced at him while she dressed, and the terror he saw in her face when she realized he was looking at her strangely only excited him all the more.
Do not be afraid, little one, he told her. You will know only infinite pleasure with me.
Leave me alone! she replied.
He sighed. She’d come around eventually. Even if he never laid a hand on her, once she felt the shared pleasure that came whenever he coupled with any one of them, she’d be begging for more.
“You like them, huh?” Ziatrice said, coming to his side. The blue-skinned woman carried her huge halberd, Wither, and wore a green and purple corset above her skirt of black blades. Couldn’t be all that comfortable, that corset, but he suspected it was magical, given the range of movement she was capable of while wearing it. He had to give her credit for wearing it though, because it did press her breasts up pleasantly while accentuating her figure at the same time.
Malem ignored her comment and turned to gaze out at the eaves of the forest. The luscious trees looked inviting, he had to admit. Though somehow he suspected that was all a mask. The tree elves were known to be a peaceful race, but that didn’t mean they were averse to killing intruders.
“Maybe you should let me break them in for you,” Ziatrice said, bearing those sharp teeth of hers.
He looked at her, momentarily confused.
“The sisters?” Ziatrice clarified. “I could train them on the male dragons. Teach them the sexual arts.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Malem said.
“Perhaps we should bring one of the men to our bed the next time we couple?” Ziatrice suggested with a hungry glint in her eyes.
“No man, half dragon or human, will ever sleep in my bed,” Malem said. “Nor will Solan and Gannet sleep in yours, or the beds of any of the other women. You are mine. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Ziatrice said, sounding disappointed. “But who will pleasure the men then? Unless you intend them to play with each other?”
“There will be no need,” Malem said. “They will share in the same pleasures as the rest of you, when I couple with whomever I choose for the night. Now be silent, Bitch.”
She scowled, but then looked away.
He returned his attention to the forest once more, looking for any signs of habitation by elves, but saw none. There were no trails, no huts, or anything of the sort. He did spot a few songbirds, however.
The dragons finished dressing, and stowed their saddles behind different bushes to be reused for the journey home. If he succeeded in his task, Malem wouldn’t be using them—he’d be marching south at the side of the elven army. Those saddles were to be used only in the case of failure. Then again, if he did fail, he’d probably be riding out of the forest bareback. As such, he would have ordered those saddles and their bags burned if it weren’t for the personal belongings the half dragons had carried along from their fallen home.
Abigail’s saddle and its bulging bags left a deep rut in the undergrowth as she dragged it behind her. It looked heavy, but because of her dragon strength, she slid it with relative ease.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Gwenfrieda said. She wore the same dragonscale armor as Malem, which mostly hid her lithe figure. Her hair hung down her back in a ponytail.
Gwenfrieda went to Abigail but couldn’t lift her end of the saddle off the ground. “Damn it, this is heavy. What the hell did you put in here?”
“Looks like she packed her whole quarters into those bags,” Mauritania commented. The tall, pale woman had on a black satin dress with blue swathes highlighting her bosom area. She had also taken to wearing the tiara of gold and silver on her brow above her blunted horns, the same tiara she had worn when he had first Broken her. Instead of the diamond high heels she had worn on that day, she had on more practical leather boots. Twin scabbards at her hips held the sword-like daggers she liked to wield in close quarters.
“Hey, I wasn’t going to leave all my valuables in the city for oraks to loot,” Ab
igail said. She wore her favorite tight red dress with the bodice trimmed in gold lace. She also had a crimson bonnet covering her straw-colored hair, though she had neglected to wear any of the silver jewelry she was fond of. “Besides, I didn’t pack everything.” She stowed the bag between two closely pressed trees. “And it’s his fault.” She spun on Malem. “He promised we’d stop at one of my dens in the mountains along the way. But we never did!”
Malem shrugged. “Maybe you should learn to live like the rest of us. We only carry those belongings we can hold on our backs.”
“Not all of us are accustomed to the nomad lifestyle!” Abigail said.
“We’ll get you accustomed, yet,” Gwenfrieda said.
Abigail crossed her arms. “Hmph.”
Weyanna emerged from the trees next to Solan and Gannet. She wore a white dress that revealed her back almost to her buttocks. She gave the men flirtatious looks.
“I want you two to scout ahead,” Malem ordered Solan and Gannet.
The pair had donned dragonscale armor, with swords clasped to their hips. Probably magical. They gave Malem an odd two-fingered salute before turning around and proceeding into the forest.
He turned toward the two short-haired sisters, one blond, and one brunette. Sylfi and Brita were wearing the same outfits: both of them had donned leather leggings, which they wore underneath skimpy jade-colored skirts. They also had on short-sleeved green blouses decorated with the embroidery of red flames on the sides. A satchel of arrows rested on their backs, and they carried stout longbows, like Gwenfrieda. They also had short-swords strapped to their hips.
Malem raised an eyebrow when he saw how they were dressed. “You know you’re going to lose all that equipment when you transform into dragons?”
Brita shrugged, and raised her head defiantly. “We’ll retrieve it afterward.” Beside her, Sylfi cringed at her tone.
So Brita is the more spirited of the two.
Malem shook his head. “I hope none of it is magical.”
Brita didn’t reply.
He felt that was a little disrespectful. Malem wondered if he should make an example of her.
No, not worth it.
The other women were disrespectful to him often enough, and he rarely made an example of them after all, unless they directly insulted Vorgon. Still, these two were relatively new…
He felt the terror rising from Sylfi’s energy bundle; she seemed certain that he was going to punish them both for her sister’s perceived transgression. And yet, for some reason, that only made him want to prove to her that he wasn’t the monster she thought he was.
But I am the monster.
He forced himself to look away.
Punishing them for minor transgressions will do nothing in furtherance of Vorgon’s aims. We are here to conquer the tree elves. So let’s do this.
As expected, just because he was far away from his master didn’t mean he had lost his connection to the demon. He could still feel Vorgon’s bundle of energy at his core, vibrating in strong pulses despite the distance; that bundle was also open, allowing him to leech stamina as needed.
Master, are you there?
Of course, came the reply. What is it?
We are entering the forest now.
He reached out, Breaking several songbirds, and he had them scatter through the forest ahead of Solan and Gannet. He also sought farther with his mind, looking for larger creatures, but detected only deer, boars, and other such forest dwellers.
No elves.
That seemed odd. But again, not entirely unexpected, given what he knew about these creatures. He doubted he’d find the entrance to their domain unless they wanted him to.
And at the moment, they didn’t.
He planned to change that, very shortly.
He momentarily switched to the viewpoints of Solan and Gannet in turn. The two were pressing their way through the thick undergrowth. He tried different songbird views, and watched them weave between the different trunks.
Malem snapped his viewpoint back inside himself. “We march. Sisters, lead.”
The two followed the path of broken twigs and crushed foliage the male half-dragons had made through the undergrowth. Malem proceeded after them, with the other women following.
Gwenfrieda came to his side. “Probably a good thing we didn’t bring horses. There are no trails in this damn place.” A big leaf slapped her face as she advanced, and she shoved it aside.
Before leaving, they had debated whether or not the dragons should carry war horses in their claws so that the party could ride them after landing. But Malem had decided horses wouldn’t help in the forest, for the very reasons Gwenfrieda was now complaining about.
“You complained that the sisters would lose their accouterments after transforming,” Weyanna said. “But these trees, they are too thick for dragons.”
“What are you saying, you can’t transform?” Malem asked.
“Oh no, we can transform all right,” Weyanna said. “But we won’t have very much room to maneuver if it comes to a fight. If we extend our wings, there’s a chance we could impale them on the broken branches our transformation will create. We’d have to climb up the trunks and breathe fire into the forest around us as we strike down with our talons. Either that, or uproot all the trees around us, until we have space to maneuver.”
“Something to consider, certainly,” Malem said. If it came to it, they could remain in human form. Their dragon strength would give them an advantage over their enemies, and in the case of Abigail and Weyanna, they also had their innate magical abilities to rely on. Solan and Gannet had weak fire magic they could utilize, while Sylfi and Brita had no natural magic whatsoever. They could breathe fire while in dragon form, but that was it.
Gwenfrieda glanced at him as they continued to march, and she lowered her voice so that her words reached his ears alone. “I never thanked you for saving my life. For convincing Vorgon to spare me.”
“I spared you only because of the Breaking slots you grant me,” Malem said. “No further reason. Vorgon understood that the loss of those slots would mean I, his tool, would become less powerful. And that is why he spared you.”
“Then you tooled him!” Gwenfrieda joked.
Malem gave her a blank look.
She quickly smoothed the amusement from her face. “Sorry. Still, I have to thank you. Vorgon could have struck you down for defying him. You risked everything. And I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful.”
He nodded slowly. “You thank me now, and yet… I thought you wanted me to kill you? When I held the blade before you, I seem to recall you speaking the words ‘do it’ in my head.”
She smiled wanly. “At the time I wanted you to, yes. It was more of a dare, really. I thought if you didn’t want me anymore, that if I was to be cast off and slain for my disobedience, then you may as well be the one to kill me. But I’m glad you held your hand.”
“Why did you run?” Malem said.
She looked down, at least until another leaf hit her face, and then cursed softly. Finally: “I ran because I missed the old Malem. I needed a break from everything. The constant fighting as Vorgon conquered every town and village between here and the Metal dragons. The constant slaughtering of the innocents. The daily raping and pillaging that reminded me of what the oraks had done to my own village; to the people I had once considered family. But most of all I needed a break from you. Or, more accurately, from what you have become. I… I probably shouldn’t have done it. But when your hold on me weakened, I couldn’t ignore the opportunity. So I ran. Now I know what it’s like to run from a darkness, only to be caught up in it.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He checked her energy bundle, wondering what sort of feelings would be running through her as she spoke these words, but he felt only determination.
“You have learned to mask your emotions from me,” Malem said. “From the others, the emotion I sense most often is hate. But you… all I ever det
ect from you is… resolve.”
“That’s probably because I could never hate you,” she said. “The demon that controls you, maybe. But you? Never.”
He gave her a warning look. “You insult Vorgon?”
She smiled sadly. “No. I wouldn’t dare.”
He nodded. “Good. So how do you do it? How do you mask yourself from me?”
“You said you detect only resolve?” she asked. “That’s probably because you’re reading me correctly. I’ve resolved to stick with you through thick and thin, no matter what happens, no matter what you will become.”
“But you just told me you ran because you needed a break from me,” he said. “That doesn’t sound like sticking with me through thick and thin…”
“No, maybe not,” she admitted. “Still, I planned to return. I swear this to you. In truth, well… I wanted to find a way to save you.”
“Save me?” he asked dangerously.
She glanced at him nervously. “Yes. From the Darkness that consumes you. I have sworn to do so, Breaker.”
He felt his expression darken. “I don’t need saving, Woman. And I am the Defiler now, not the Breaker.”
“My bad,” she said.
“Vorgon has saved me already,” he continued. “He has set me free from the Darkness.”
“Only to replace it with another,” she said.
He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve had enough. Let me walk alone, Woman. In peace.”
She nodded, and then slowed her pace to let him pull ahead.
Two hours later, when he judged that the party had traveled six to eight miles into the forest, he called a halt.
So far, they hadn’t discovered any trails, traps, cabins, or any other signs that the forest was inhabited. Nor did he ever sense elves with his beast sense. The closest creatures he could detect were a pack of wolves, some distance to the west. He’d broken a few of them, just to confirm that there were actually wolves out there, and not elves somehow masquerading as lesser beasts.
The songbirds hadn’t sighted anything, either, despite having split up to cover half the forest ahead of the party. If there was an elvish city here, it was certainly well hidden.