Part 1 (Continued)
Nadia felt the thick clouds gathering
closer around them, obscuring her vision and making it hard to
breathe.
The Goth chieftain paid no heed, his
eyes squinting to peer through the mass, to see what lay beyond it.
“Come, you infernal beast,” he
muttered. “Show thyself!”
Nadia felt the faintness dancing around
her ears. As slowly as it had seeped into the valley, the roll of fog
now eased itself back, disclosing more and more of the deep-black
peat, interrupted by clumps of verdant, lush grass, and an ashy
crater at its center. There was something large there, something that
moved—something dangerous. Nadia had never felt so naked and
vulnerable. Every instinct within her screamed at her to run, to
escape, to never lay eyes on whatever horror inhabited the moor.
Gabbaldur had no such inhibitions.
“WELL?” He roared at the massive
shadow just beyond the edge of the crater with its layer of smog.
“I’VE COME FOR MY SON, VILE SERPENT! COME OUT AND FACE ME!”
Nadia couldn’t stand it any longer.
She flopped indecorously off the horse’s back, the soft loam
muffling the sound of her dismount. Just when she turned her back on
her captor, she felt Gabbaldur’s rough hand on her wrist.
“And whither thou goest, fair
lady?” He growled at her, yanking her back toward him. The cloud of
smog had just begun to pull away from the edges of the crater. “I
have not given thee a proper introduction! Forsooth!” He returned
to address the Dragon, now in Latin, as most countries had adapted to
communicate with the Roman Empire. “I have brought before thee thy
Bride, to exchange for my son! See the Ring she—“ He stopped when
he saw her empty fingers, turning upon her with such a stare, she
feared he might break her hand. “What hast thou done, wench?” He
growled, pulling her close so he could reach her other hand.
Nadia’s fear came out in ragged,
gasping sobs.
“Where is it?” bellowed the
Goth. “Where is the infernal ring you swore would never leave your
hand unless your hand left your body?”
Nadia couldn’t form words, but she
saw The Thing rise from the fog over Gabbaldur’s shoulder, and she
screamed in terror.
Gabbaldur whirled around as the mighty
Midnight Dragon spread its wings and landed in the valley, just a few
meters away from them. Though Gabbaldur towered over most people, he
barely reached the first joint on the Dragon’s foreleg.
“What is your intention, small man?”
the Dragon rumbled. “Why do you invade my solitude?”
Nadia cowered at the grand, rolling
sounds of its voice, but Gabbaldur was too incensed heed the warning.
“Why? You dare question me,
foul monster? I have come to relieve thee of my son, whom you stole
from me, and I demand thee release him unharmed!” He turned back to
Nadia and hauled her upright. “See? I have brought with you the
last of the Drakistos family—and she is one of the Brides, no less!
Take your Bride, Dragon, and let my son go free!”
“The boy is your son?” The Dragon
bent its head closer to the irate man. “I found the fool wandering
the hillside, too intoxicated to stand, so ignorant that he would
infringe upon forbidden lands and raise arms against me—he is
rightfully my prisoner.” The Dragon tilted its head to inspect
Nadia a little closer. “This woman bears no resemblance to the one
with the power to return me to my proper place. She does not bear The
Ring.”
“VERILY, I SWEAR BY MY LIFE THAT
SHE BORE IT WHEN I CARRIED HER WITH ME FROM HER VERY STRONGHOLD!”
Gabbaldur’s face was a dark, angry purple when he drew his knife
and pressed it against Nadia’s neck. “If thou wilt not yield me
my son,” he rasped, “I shall end her life, here and now. Then
there will be no more Brides, none of the Drakistos line, and you
will perish by the hand of men!”
The Dragon hissed, and two thin jets of
smoke issued from its nostrils. “You would not dare slay an
innocent woman in my presence,” it warned.
“By this hand, I will!” Gabbaldur
howled in return, spitting in the Dragon’s direction. “I shall
kill her, and I shall gather every last member of my clan, and when I
return, I will kill you!”
Nadia whimpered at the edge of his
knife. She tried to ease her neck out of harm’s way, but he held
her too close. The dragon did not respond to the threat. The last
remaining heir of Drakistos took advantage of the silence to plead.
“Chief Gabbaldur, don’t do this!”
she begged softly. “Please, I’ll do anything! Please, just don’t
kill me—“
“Silence, woman!” He returned his
attention to her with a vengeance. The blade of the knife sliding
across her throat caught against her skin, drawing a small bead of
blood. “Thou art in a hell of thy own making, and so help me, I
shall have my recompense for it!” He dropped her in a heap, and she
clutched the hem of her toga against the wound to staunch it.
“Well?” Gabbaldur challenged the
dragon yet again. “Is he in there or not? By the gods, if you’ve
done injury to my poor son—“
The dragon jerked its head back,
causing the chieftain to flinch and stop in the midst of his
words—but the action wasn’t intended for Gabbaldur. Instead, the
Midnight Dragon reached into the crater behind it, and pulled out a
small, dirty bundle. The dragon released the bundle with the same
amount of gentleness as the Goth used with Nadia. She saw it land,
saw the pale hand on the edge of it, and when she took that hand, the
head tilted up: Gabbaldur’s son, alive and well—and positively
scared sober.
“Sigmund!” the big man gasped, but
he’d only taken one step when the Dragon commanded, “Come no
closer!”
The massive claw stamped down between
the Goth chieftain and the two captives.
“To shed innocent blood has dire
consequences, be it human, or otherwise,” The Midnight Dragon said
to Gabbaldur. “You have shown yourself to be a cruel, greedy man—so
now here is the consequence of your foolish actions.”
Reaching out a single claw, the
Midnight Dragon gently brushed the outstretched arms of both Nadia
and Sigmund, leaving behind a raw, red mark that burned deep into
their skin. The pair cried out, while Gabbaldur could only pace like
an angry bear. Finally, the Dragon lifted its claw, and Gabbaldur
immediately dropped to his son’s side, looking at the angry scar
that now marred his skin.
“What did ye do to them?” the
chieftain asked.
“I have Marked them both,” the
Midnight Dragon stated, “to preserve their lives. Both of these
children now possess immortality, but it comes with a price. Over
time, they will begin to develop scales as a sign of their
immortality, and these scales will be impervious to disease, to
piercing, to heat, and to cold. When the scales cover their bodies,
they will fall asleep, and in that sleep, the scales will release,
renewing the body underneath, and when they awaken, the cycle will
begin anew.”
Gabbaldur stared at his son, almost
afraid to touch him now. “You foul creature! You’ve cursed my
son!”
Nadia inhaled slowly, fighting to find
her voice. “Please,” she murmured softly. “This is a reward,
but the punishment is too great—is there no provision, or must we
both carry scales in the presence of others?”
The Dragon regarded her for a moment,
and then, bending low, it breathed gently over both of them. “Because
I do not punish the innocent with the guilty,” it stated, “It
will be that only the Dragon-Marked can see the scales. They will be
invisible to any others, and thus I can remain in secret until the
Ring is recovered.” The Midnight Dragon unfurled his wings and
leaned upright. “My time upon this place is at an end. I will
travel the distance of time and space, and we will meet again,
Sigmund Gabbaldurson, when a descendant of Drakistos recovers the
Ring. Only then will this curse be lifted, and only the heir of
Drakistos will be able to open the portal between our worlds. Until
then, if I am killed by anyone who does not bear the Ring, or if the
Ring is discovered and used by one who is not of your lineage, then
those upon which the Dragon Mark falls will die. Heed my warning!”
A rush of wind threatened to knock the
Goth chieftain over, but he shielded his face with his cloak. When
the wind died, he raised his eyes.
The Midnight Dragon had vanished, and
he’d taken the Bride of Drakistos with him.
“NO!!” Gabbaldur roared, as
Sigmund staggered to his feet. “Curse you, Dragon! Curse your
slimy, belly-crawling, fire-spewing—“
“Father!” Sigmund interrupted. “Why
are you so angry? He spared our lives—“
“And he has taken with him the only
one able to lift our curse!” Gabbaldur spluttered in his son’s
face. “You fool, don’t you know? Even if we were to find the
Ring, she is the only one who can wield it! He has departed with the
only leverage we have, and left us with simply a curse, and a tool
that none of us can use!”
Sigmund sighed, rubbing the last aches
from his head. “At the very least, we have this land, Father; we
can find the Ring—or if one of the clan does, they will be
obligated to yield it to us.”
Gabbaldur ceased his fuming, and stared
at his son.
“You speak truth, Sigmund,” he said slowly. “The
Drakistos land is now our land—so why not take the name as well? If
the Bride returns to claim her family’s land, we can just demand
that she lift the curse before we yield to her. If she does not come,
then what is to stop us from finding the Ring, and making one of our
Drakistos heirs lift the curse?” The longer he considered the
idea, the more Gabbaldur began to see hope in this new plan. “This
is the oath I swear, Sigmund, and you will be my witness!” He drew
his dagger across his arm, releasing a small trickle of blood to seal
the promise.
“Henceforth, we shall be known as the Drakistos clan,
and should any of my descendants encounter the one who claims her
place as the True Bride of Drakistos, they shall not refuse her
request, or they will be cast out from the family forever!”
From that day forward, Gabbaldur’s
clan migrated to the forests of Sithonia, and established themselves
there. They took the name Drakistos, and though many people scoured
the land for many years, they did not find the Ring. Gabbaldur died
in battle, and Sigmund took his place as the head of the Drakistos
family.
Still, the Bride did not appear, though they waited, watched,
and searched.
Some began to wonder if she ever
existed at all.
>>>>>>>>>>
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