Scene 3

(Mis)trust

Darkness.

Son. Listen to me.

Father...? Yes, I'm listening.

You must kill that man.

Cecil's vision shifted, colors and shapes bursting to life in a wonderful display of artistic disarray. The sight was unstable, as if he viewed through water. In the distance crouched a wary young man in full battle gear, hoisting a silver spear. Something about the square-jawed face and blue eyes gave Cecil pause. He knew that man...

Yes. It's Kain.

You want me to kill my own friend? How dare you ask such a thing—no father would!

What choice have you, Cecil? Look, see how he approaches, weapon in hand.

Indeed, Klu-Ya spoke truly, for the dragoon crept ever nearer, the spear's tip leveled with Cecil's heart.

He seeks to steal your wife, child, and throne. He hungers for your life. Even now he draws close, intent on slaying you and taking it all for himself!

Certainly that all made sense. Kain had always desired everything the paladin had. Didn't the dragoon proclaim his love of Rosa, Cecil's beloved? Had he not, on the seldom occasions of sentimentality, longed for a child? Kain, the King. Kain, husband of Rosa. Kain, father of Owen. It all made sense...

Then, pain. All-encompassing. It swept his body like a fever, almost rendering him unconscious. He struggled to rise above the agony that seemed determined to drown the paladin. Something about Klu-Ya's words rang false, and if he could just be free of the pain Cecil knew he'd be able to put the pieces together.

At last, the pain receded. Strangely, Cecil's vision failed to clear, though his other senses became fully functional again. Kain continued his deadly march, now just a few feet away. Voices floated over Cecil's head, like wisps of smoke. The paladin tried to pin down, make sense of the madness, and quell the fear fueling his heart to pound.

"Yes, that's right Kain. Come! Come! He took your life from you! Take his and restore your own!"

Kain's voice was as a bell tolling. "Hold still! This won't take long, Father!"

...Father!

Are you my father or his!? Or are you even either?

No answer...

Cecil couldn't move, else he'd have gestured to the dragoon to halt. He parted his lips to speak, yet no sound came out. What was the matter? Was he under some sort of spell—both mute and paralyzation? Then the paladin's eyes trailed to the floor.

A solid, transparent wall encased him.

Trapped.

And the spear came nearer.

It's a shame you didn't listen, Cecil. You would have had a chance to defend yourself. Now you will die before you can even raise your sword.

You...Damn you! You planned this, to turn us against one another!?

Yes and claim the body of the victor. Sad, it is, that I can't even witness what would likely have been a marvelous battle. Two trained, skilled warriors. A pity, that...Wait. I give you one last chance, Cecil. Fall back under my spell. Fight him. Perhaps you'll win. Perhaps you'll live. Think of your family...what choice have you?

Cecil swallowed, thoughts of Rosa and Owen floating in his head. Then he banished them, and the fear strangling him. No. I would rather die than take up arms against my friend.

Disappointment. So be it.

"Kain, what are you waiting for?!"

As he glanced up, Cecil's eyes widened, hopeful. Kain no longer approached, holding his head tilted, as if studying the paladin. The dragoon lifted his visor and his navy-blue eyes peeked out, baffled. It was as if Kain was trying to identify him. Then a smile spread across his lips, one that made Cecil's blood run cold. "I just thought I should get one good look into his eyes before—This!"

With a single mighty heave and the dragoon slammed his spear in. Glass shattered. Pain shrieked in Cecil's blood as he, too, screamed. Its glorious, maddening symphony was a chorus of angels in fury at the betrayal. But long had the paladin been the victim of such a sin.

Kain—the Traitor. Always was. Always will be. Strike now!

No! You are no father of mine! I will strike my...friend...

The eager hands of darkness rushed in.

Then, light banished the hands, pulling him to the surface. Pain assailed his body like a thousand marching soldiers, determined to strike him down. He heard a scream—likely his own—then the gray receded, letting him float upwards to the light.

"Cecil, thank the gods you survived!"

The paladin's eyes fluttered open and took in the image of Kain hovering over him, his dark shape blotting out the excruciating light. Curious, that. Under the darkness Cecil had cherished the light but, now, the dragoon's shadow was a blessing. Or was it...? His very presence brought the memory of the attack into stark reality.

Scrambling backwards on his hands and knees, Cecil tried his best to elude the dragoon's grasp. Not a terribly difficult task, considering Kain's surprise caused him to recoil. Cecil wanted to trust his friend so very much but the evidence of his betrayal, if that were it was, lay shining with the paladin's blood in the form of broken glass.

This was Kain he was talking about after all.

Perhaps thinking the king was disoriented, Kain stretched his hands out again. And again Cecil resisted, his icy stare piercing the dragoon like his own spear. The dragoon stared, confused, as if trying to determine how hard he'd really bumped his head. In the background, the noise of some horrendous transformation caused both dragoon and paladin to jerk sideways to witness exactly that—a transformation.

The man, be he Kain's or Cecil's father or neither, morphed into a dragon-like creature. Reminiscent of the Wyren the two had encountered in the Crystal Fortress, it was fifteen feet in height and twenty in length. Like the blood ebbing from Cecil's wound, it gleamed a bright red with the exception of its eyes that were as ebony stones.

"I don't much like the looks of this, Cecil...Cecil?"

His heart racing, the paladin slid upwards to his feet, back braced against the wall. In his hands he held Excalibur poised to strike into the dragoon's heart. Kain gasped, likely thinking his friend mad. That didn't matter to Cecil. The dragoon's allegiance had been cast in serious doubt. By the looks on Kain's face, that had finally occurred to him.

"Cecil, no! I'm your friend!"

"Friend's don't try to kill each other..."

"Damn it, Cecil, you know better than that! I would never betray you..." Kain choked, seeming to realize what his attack on the mirror might be perceived as. "You'll never trust me again, will you? Not truly. No matter the time, the loyalty...the slightest shadow of ill intent will send you scurrying into a prison of mistrust."

Two paths unfolded before the paladin. One, to trust the dragoon; the other, to fight the dragon alone. Like someone had drilled a cord into his temples, Cecil felt the energy drain away, sucking life virtually from him. He didn't know if allying himself with Kain would lead to his death—but he did know that not doing so likely would.

The blade lowered.

Kain extended his hand again. Blood dripped down onto the clean white marble. Cecil's blood. The sight made the paladin wince but he retained an outward appearance of calm. This was the choice he'd made. Hopefully that would be the last of his blood on the dragoon's hands. Jaw set, Cecil grasped it tightly for a mere moment then released.

Resorting to the old pattern they'd employed since their first battle together, Cecil fell in line with Kain. One blue-crystal eye never left his 'friend', though. "I'm fairly certain we'll both die now. If so, I want you to know something..."

"Yes?"

"I really do like my 'drag'. One of these days I'll dye yours the same color."

Kain laughed. "I'd better be dead for that."

A roar of epic portions stopped their voices cold. Like a wave, the shadow smothered both dragoon and paladin, inciting an instantaneous dread in both. "You disappoint me, both of you," the dragon snarled, tendrils of smoke rising from its nostrils. "The fight would have been glorious! And I would have been left to claim the victor...Now I slay you both, here, now!" With that, the dragon belched a cone of searing flames.

Cecil and Kain threw themselves to the far walls in opposite directions. Stumbling against the cold surface, the paladin forced himself to take breath. What was the matter with him? Surely the wounds did not cause such a loss of strength. What then? His gaze flickered over to the dragon and the dragoon. With an amazing tenacity Kain held his own, darting in to slash the beast on its wing.

In the instant the injury was inflicted, Cecil experienced another loss of energy. It vanished in such a torrent that the paladin, for a moment, feared he'd faint. Such an option was not viable, considering the presence of the dragon. The dragon...The dragon! Cecil glanced up sharply, his eyes taking in the glow that fled him to envelop the beast.

So...am I power outlet for this creature...losing my life-force to restore his own?

Panting from exertion after having staved off a deadly blow, Kain sprang over to his friend. "You look sick..." The sentence cut off as both paladin and dragoon leapt past a flailing tail. With a cough, Kain continued, "Are you strong enough to fight?"

Cecil chuckled, though even that minor moment hurt. "Well enough..." A twinkle in his eye, he added, "Our old routine?"

"Just like old times?"

As if one entity rather than two, the paladin and dragoon pivoted to face the beast, sword and spear in hand. Kain gave him a quick nod and Cecil quickly reciprocated. Then the two charged into the fray, shouting the names of loved ones as an epitaph to their attack. As they surged forward the beast opened its maw, teeth like the stalagmites of a cavern. From it poured forth a gush of flames.

Indeed, like old times.