Chapter VII

Jim VonBurace. Paladin. Knight for the Glory of Honor. Forsaken…

Jim was in the forest, but it was far from where he remembered being the day before. The Mirkilains were lush, rich, green. This was desolate, pale, dead. A thick mist blanketed everything, while a dark and overcast sky blotted out the sun. The trees were bent, gnarled, twisted and bare, the wood petrified. The smell of death was everywhere.

I know you can hear me, Knight. Answer my call.

The voice. It had plagued him ever since parting ways with the mage. A low, rumbling bellow that spoke to his mind and invaded his thoughts. He had tried to block it at first, ignore the whispers, but they grew stronger as time passed. Now, they were far from the soft-spoken thoughts they had once been, almost as though another presence had entered his mind.

A shadow. Something moving in the mist caught his eye, the rough form of a man, though the shape was off. There was something terribly different. Claws where hands should have been, fangs and a snout where there should have been a normal head, form mostly covered by some leathery cloak. He had heard stories of these demons. They were the death of people.

"Who are you," Jim demanded, a hand reaching for where his sword should have been, only to find air.

Nothing more than a dream, Knight.

The figure remained cloaked in the mist, the shadow circling around with a ghost-like smoothness to its movements. A clawed hand reached out, beckoning the Knight closer.

Your hand. You bear the mark we've been waiting for, you know.

Jim looked down at his hand, suddenly aware of a sharp burning that radiated from it. The bandages were bled through, the stains resembling the Mark of Thakisis, the dragon with seven heads. He snorted and ignored the pain, glaring back at the shadowy figure.

"What do you want, demon?"

Demon? Your words are far too harsh, Human. I am nothing like demons and their ilk. As for what I want, that is rather simple. Creation.

"Creation?"

Our Queen told us you would lead to our birth here. You are the key. We've been waiting for you.

"Likes. The tools of the Queen are damned, I would never have anything to do with them. You can rot in nothingness and I will be quite fine with that."

You will aid us, whether you like it or not, Knight. The shadow beckoned again. Come, see what your children will look like. See what awaits you in the future.

The mist cleared suddenly, leaving the dead forest uncloaked. The sight that awaited the Knight near made him run on the spot. A figure of clear dragon descent, but with the build of a human was smirking back at him darkly. Rich, black scales and glowing, golden eyes did nothing but bring back visions of the black dragon that had branded him on the battlefield.

The creature was clearly pleased with the effect, tail lashing idly behind him in a snake-like pattern, the bony crest on the back of its head flaring ever so slightly to match the cold smirk. The cloak was, in fact, wings draped over the shoulders in a relaxed pose.

Half-dragon, half man.

"What sorcery is this? What are you?"

In due time, Knight, all answers will come. Behold the children of Thakisis, the very things you will help bring into this world.

"I would do no such thing." Jim glanced around for something to use as a weapon. The beast seemed real enough, it could probably bleed. "Paladine would forbid such an obscenity from ever coming to fruition."

Paladine will help, whether he knows it or not. Your pitiful god will be a puppet and tool for the Queen. Those who support him will be slaughtered after he forsakes the Kingdom that follows his teachings.

Finding nothing in the way of a weapon, Jim tried to gather his chances in unarmed combat. The most likely outcome was less than desirable, but he found himself clenching a fist all the same. Honor was life, and this hideous creature was the sort of evil he had sworn to destroy.

You make me laugh, Knight. I am nothing more than a vision of things to come. You and I will never meet, not until the day you die. You can assault me now, but you will find nothing more than air in my place. The Queen wanted me to see you, to meet you face to face. She chose you, Knight. You are her puppet now, fate will handle the rest. All I ask is that, when the time comes, you do not resist. Let the flow of life take over, let the fates do their work well. The more you resist, the more painful the outcome will be.

Jim shook his head to clear it. A dream, that's all it was. Just a dream. If he ignored it, tried to focus away from it, then everything would fade away and the hellspawn would be gone from his sight.

Ah. Stubborn Knight, when will you learn that your own destiny cannot be ignored? Very well, then. If that is how it is to be, I will see you when the fates decide your time is through. Until then, continue to serve my Queen well, and your death will be quick and painless.

Darkness fell, Jim found himself surrounded by nothingness. The mist was gone, the forest gone, and in its place a black void that seemed to press in on all sides. The weight was enough to suffocate and leave him panting for air. Dropping to one knee, he tried to loosen up his clothing so that it was less restrictive around his throat, hoping that might help. Nothing seemed to be working, the invisible hands continued to press in, choking the air from him.

He awoke in the forest, the sun already risen and well into its morning arc. Sweat-soaked from the nightmare, he rubbed at his bandaged hand. The wound burned under the bandaging, which was in need of replacement. That would need to wait, though, his supply had run out. A hand trailed down to his sword, feeling the hilt just to ensure that it was still by his side. It was a reassuring weight to carry, and he felt far from vulnerable now that it was in his control again.

The nightmares had been constant, something that only worsened the closer he got to his goal. Fires burned on the horizon, and he was certain that the Southern Mirkilains were falling quickly under the onslaught. There was an outpost nearby, one he had been trying to reach, where he could rest and send out messages. That was still a good day to the south, though. No smoke could be seen that way, which was a good thing. If he pushed hard, he could get there well before the advancing army.

He reached up and rubbed at his throat. The first nightmares had been nothing more than shadows and voices. Recently, they had begun to appear more real. The details, the memories, they were all so vivid in his mind that he couldn't brush them aside and forget them like he did most other dreams. Even now, his throat was sore, he could feel where something like fingers had closed in to strangle him. It was a cruel sort of torture, one he could only think to blame the mage and dragon for. The branding along with whatever curse the damnable mage cast on him.

Smothering the last few embers of a fire, he carried on his trek, the visage of the dragon-person still fresh in his mind. Something he would help create? The Knight forced a laugh, mostly to calm his own nerves. The beasts of the dark Queen would he slain by his hand, or he would die trying. Never would he bend to her will or assist in bringing about her goals. Paladine would be on his side, protect him from her.

An instinctive glance skyward coupled with an unspoken prayer, for good measure. He would need to visit the temple, and the clerics, as soon as he could. Their blessings would clear whatever curse the mage, Xodius, had placed on him. Perhaps they could even heal the wound the dragon had given him, which still bled as though it were fresh.

The Knight crossed himself and focused on the goal at hand. The fort was a day's trek, and he needed to get there well before the day was over. It was a long, tiring trip so far, and the end was too near to slacken the pace.