"My
lord! Lykoleon, wait!"
The blond dragon turned at the
sound of his name, green eyes smiling when he recognized the worried
face of white officer Alfeegi. "What is it? Did Thatz rob the
kitchens again?"
Alfeegi shook his head, trying to catch
his breath. He had run all the way from the Dragon Knight's sleeping
quarters when he found the hastily scribbled note pinned to Rath's
pillow, explaining the knight's need to "take care of
somehthing." Alfeegi had searched everywhere for Rath, to no
avail; the knight of fire was gone, along with a hefty amount of food
from Thatz's "secret" stash and Lykoleon's sword of light.
Strangely enough, the dragon Fire was left behind.
Panting,
the dragon officer managed to gasp out, "He...he's gone, your
majesty. Rath. He left...and took...your sword." Alfeegi leaned
heavily against a wall as he waited for the dragon lord's response.
His respite was brief.
Lykoleon rubbed his chin thoughtfully,
"Is that so? I sure hope he took enough to eat, and a warm
blanket. Did he say when he would be back?" He watched placidly
as Alfeegi listened open mouthed and staring, about to protest.
Raising a hand to curb the surge of questions about to erupt from the
dragon officer, Lykoleon explained, "Rath is as free as you and
I, Alfeegi, he may go and see to his own matters as he pleases. Be
grateful he left a notice telling us of his intentions, vague though
they are. No doubt Rath is out for a bit of the usual demon hunting,
but it makes me wonder..."
Miffed, Alfeegi crossed his
arms protectively and glared at nothing in particular. "What's
so peculiar about him leaving without written permission?"
"It's
not that..."
"What then?"
Lykoleon waved
his hand dismissively, "Oh, nothing." The dragon lord
turned to leave, but stopped short, rethinking his reply. Without
looking at Alfeegi, he said in a low voice, "It's just that Rath
is changing. Something deep inside him has awakened, and now he seeks
to discover it. I can only hope Rath is up to the challenge of
overcoming the malicious force within himself, and will be able to
remember who his true friends are, where his real home lies."
Having
said what was needed, Lykoleon would have strode away right then had
Alfeegi's shaking hand not clutched shoulder, forcing him to remain.
"Alfeegi...?"
"Tell me," the white dragon
officer said in a quavering but inquisitive tone, "what do you
mean? I have sensed nothing from Rath, and I'm sure none of the other
officers have either. Tell me more, my lord, please."
He
released Lykoleon's shoulder as the dragon lord turned around,
bringing his fair face uncomfortably close. "I cannot tell you
the identities of my sources, but I can tell you this: the power Rath
must face is his alone to discover and overwhelm. It is a being of
strength and skill, of deceit and shadow, of ruthless nature and cold
blood."
"But," Alfeegi asked earnestly, "how
do you know this? You tell me everything except what I want to know.
What does this thing look like?"
Stepping away, Lykoleon
looked at Alfeegi, whose turquoise eyes were full of questions and
anxiety. Finally, he answered, "It is an elusive one. I know
nothing of its true form other than a very old description,"
Lykoleon shut his eyes and sighed in mild despondency barely
concealed. " 'To hear its name is to know fear. To see its face
is to know death.' "he recited.
The color drained out of
Alfeegi's already pale features at these words, leaving him shaking
like a brittle leaf in a windstorm. For once, the white officer had
no reply to the dragon lord he so admired and protected, the one who
had always smiled no matter what and never failed to be the
upstanding, honest person Alfeegi had always strived to be. But now,
with Lykoleon hiding so many things from his closest official, his
closest friend, the first traces of doubt and a growing feeling of
betrayal had begun to seep slowly into Alfeegi's mind, poisoning his
trust and raising suspicion in its place. Lykoleon had always told
him everything, no matter what. He was his most trusted official, and
Alfeegi had taken pride in that fact. But what was he now? If
Lykoleon wouldn't tell him something this important, how could
Alfeegi be expected to help him? Didn't the lord trust him
anymore?
As the dragon lord proceeded to go about his daily
business in the castle, the white officer stood like a stone where he
had been left, contemplating every word that had passed between
himself and Lykoleon, every expression, every potential lie and
misgiving, until he was so imbued with sadness and regret that he
could scarcely hold back the tears. Alfeegi wiped his eyes and forced
himself to move and get to work, for there was much to be done, but
his mind would not be prevented from replaying Lykoleon's words all
over again.
"Oh, nothing,"
"...who his
true friends are, where his real home lies,"
"I
cannot tell you the identities of my sources..."
"To
hear its name is to know fear. To see its face is to know
death."
A
fierce wind rushed through the long, whip-like grass that covered the
hilly ground like a blanket of ever shifting greens and browns, its
continuity broken only by sharp outcroppings of jet black rock that
dotted the knolls like the teeth of a giant demon. It was a cold,
inhospitable place, with overcast skies and mists that could grow so
thick, even the most seasoned travelers would be lost in its depths,
doomed to wander the wilderness alone. It was lucky that the miasma
was thin now, for the gale let nothing remain still, but with the
unpredictability of the weather in this part of Dusis, one could not
be certain.
Rath shivered, drawing his dark cloak tighter
around himself. In the gloom, he appeared as ghastly and sinister as
a wraith, wading through the thick grasses leading a dull, chestnut
brown mare. The horse's watery eyes reflected her surroundings, and
on her back lay a long mound, strapped lengthwise to the leather
harness and swathed in a thin, gray blanket. A small tear had
appeared in the fabric, and a lock of limp, fiery orange hair had
poked its way through. The body of Bierrez.
Lowering his head
to the wind that lashed his black hair about his crimson eyes and
threatened to rip the cloak from his hunched shoulders, Rath pressed
on, making for the nearest rocky projection to shelter from the
merciless weather. As he coaxed the horse along, he began to regret
taking Bierrez's body from Kharl's stronghold, but an unknown
something had told him to acquire the yokai as soon as possible, dead
or alive.
I only wish I had been the one to kill him, Rath
thought bitterly, then I could rest peacefully, knowing my secret
was safe.
Upon reaching the outcropping, the dragon knight
hastily wedged the reins of his horse between two large stones, and
piled many smaller ones on top to keep the mare from running. Not
that he thought she would go anywhere; the horse seemed content to
stand and graze, regardless of the howling wind that lashed the grass
against her legs and whipped through her mane like a hot knife
through butter.
Rath sat down under the shelf of black rock,
weary with the journey's toil and his own mind's persistent
hammering. The ride from Draqueen had been easy enough; slipping out
of the highly guarded castle wasn't difficult with the kind of
practice he had, but making his way to Kharl's citadel was another
story.
The major problem was the alchemist's annoying ability
to detect the aura of another living being, be it human, demon, elf
or yokai. While Bierrez had plunged headlong in the alchemist's realm
to seek his revenge and met a swift doom at the hands of his target,
Rath observed his mistake from the shadows and planned a different
approach. He would conceal his aura by suppressing his sense of self,
becoming a shell who knew only one purpose: to infiltrate the
alchemist's castle and seize Bierrez, making secrecy his number one
priority. Rath knew that hiding one's aura was a dangerous task, for
once the self of one is hidden, the soul, emotions, individuality and
personal memories are lost as well. Which makes becoming unhidden a
formidable challenge, for one literally has to find himself
again.
Normally, hiding the sense of self is quite difficult,
hard enough to prevent even the most earthbound minds from merely
considering its usage. Not so for Rath. For some reason, his special
life force allowed him to perform this maneuver without the slightest
tribulation; the dragon knight never even gave it a second thought.
It seems a chi such as Rath's was not easily lost or broken, but
would it be enough to help him through the trials that lay in the
near future?
A sharp whinny from the mare woke Rath from his
thoughts with a start; he had been dozing to the surprisingly lulling
sound of the wind across the plain, which was beginning to calm to a
slow breeze. Wafts of white mist began to cling to the pointed tips
of the long, spear-like grass and gather on the edges of Rath's cloak
as if it were the forlorn souls of long forgotten ghosts.
"Shh...be
still, be still," Rath said in a comforting voice, reaching up
and patting the long face of his skittish horse, "Rest now.
It'll be alright." The mare looked at him briefly, then went
back to munching on the tough grass, placated for now.
Rath
leaned back on the rock, crossing his arms over himself for warmth
against the iciness in his bones, which was only intensified by the
moisture that had collected on his cloak and soaked into his shirt
underneath. He glanced up at the motionless body of Bierrez still
bound to the horse, and decided not to remove it. It would only be a
hindrance if something attacked them; better to leave it as it was
rather than risk losing it in a fight. The chestnut mare didn't seem
to mind much, and Rath was too tired to do anything about it now
anyway.
The flight from Kharl's castle had been a long one,
nonstop save for minimal resting periods that were altogether
unavoidable. It had taken a lot of effort to make it this far from
the alchemist, traveling for three days in utter secrecy, running
between the shadows, trying to remain unnoticed until he reached safe
ground at last. Rath thought he was somewhere east of Luwa, near the
great ocean that separated Dusis from Arinas, the forgotten demon
land. Though he didn't know it yet as he laid his head to rest in the
folds of his cloak, Rath would soon discover a visitor from the
continent of Arinas. A yokai, one that would reveal additional
insight to the dragon knight's mysterious past, adding more clues as
to what exactly was plaguing the black haired boy from the Dragon
tribe, the one who did not truly belong, the one who was
different.
No matter what Rath had deluded himself into
believing when he foolishly chose this place to sleep, he was not
alone. A dark presence waited for the hour of his awakening with a
tireless patience that contradicted the gleam of its hungry eyes,
wringing its idle hands in anticipation for the morning.
