Chapter Three

Ambition And Blood

Castellan Nolen walked the battlements, surveying the defences and making sure his men were alert. The Sword Hills were a favourite haunt of sky and fire dragons in particular, and they had even been attacked by the odd chaos dragon in the past.

The purple void dragon scales of his armour rustled and thrummed as he marched. He carried his weapon in his hand, a greatmace with a bladed head, leaning it against his shoulder.

He might have welcomed an attack, a chance to break the monotony. Whether it be by dragons or bandits, an attack would have kept his men sharp.

For his part, Nolen had faced many different dragons. Had he not been assigned as a Castellan, he might have equalled Kaden one day, a man he had deeply respected. He had hoped to do as Father Ritterfau had and fell a radiant dragon. They were amongst the least aggressive of dragons, but they were also amongst the most dangerous when provoked.

Still, killing a void dragon was an achievement unto itself. Many brave Dragon Knights had been crushed to a pulp by their awesome powers.

'Any sign?' Nolen asked one of his sentries, not needing to specify.

'Not yet, Sir Nolen.' Though Eserren and Caewyn had recollection scrolls, they were just as liable to walk back. Those scrolls were valuable and only to be used if the need was great, for they were spells not easily written or cast. That, and the two of them were prone to taking detours to aid those in need.

Nolen did admire Eserren and Caewyn's principles, even though they frequently disobeyed orders and risked the neutrality of the Dragon Knight Order. They really were superb dragon hunters, earth and sky dragons being the ones they dealt with most frequently.

Nolen thought he heard something on the breeze. It might have been a dragon roaring, but it was unlike any he had heard before.

Could he be lucky enough to have a radiant dragon attack the fortress? It was rare to see them on this side of the continent, but it had been known to happen.

'Ready yourselves,' Nolen called, lifting his greatmace. 'To arms! Stand at your posts and prepare for battle!'

Men ran to the ballistae and scorpions. Archers and arbalists took up position. Weapons were drawn and visors were lowered. Nolen slid his own bascinet over his mail coif and looked around, watchful and eager for battle.

If a dragon was attacking, it had to be afflicted with the Madness.

Despite their great knowledge of their chosen foes, and their dedication to eradicating them, even the Dragon Knights did not fully understand dragons, especially not the condition known as "the Madness". What was known was that as dragons grew older, especially those not playing host to an Eldwurm's soul, they became vulnerable to bouts of rage, insanity and an insatiable need to kill. They would roam heedlessly, seeking victims to slay and settlements to destroy.

There were exceptions. Radiant and void dragons would become aggressive when afflicted, but would usually seek to seclude themselves. And it was always hard to tell when a chaos dragon was insane, because they killed on a whim regardless, and fire dragons were conquerors by nature, ever seeking to expand their territories, killing any in the way and destroying any obstacle in their paths.

Many of the dragons the Dragon Knights were asked to slay were ones which had succumbed to the Madness. No doubt one such dragon was about to attack Steelpoint Vigil.

What came for them today was no ordinary dragon suffering from the throes of insanity.

Vylgranox had heeded the lessons he had learned at Weiß Wache. He knew what kind of defences the Dragon Knights employed to protect their castles, and he knew of their strengths.

He also knew of their weaknesses.

The scale-skewer ballistae were the greatest threat to him when he was airborne, but there was a simple flaw in their design he planned to exploit: they could not be aimed straight up into the sky. Even sky dragons did not dive straight down at a target, they swooped in at an angle—an angle a ballista crew could exploit.

Vylgranox dived down upon the Dragon Knights, amazed that even they did not think to look straight up. He unleashed his boiling miasma upon the eastern wall with ruinous effect, melting the luckless men upon it along with the stone they stood upon.

Nolen, on watch on the southern wall, ordered his artillerists and archers to loose their missiles at the beast, a sudden fear upon him as he realised who they faced. He had been warned that the dreaded Vylgranox, Arbiter and Outcast, Eldwurm Unrecognised, was no mere myth, and was actually on the hunt, sowing havoc and devastation wherever he went.

Vylgranox took to the skies again, avoiding the arrows and bolts sent his way. Even though his stratagem was now obvious, there was little they could do to stop him. Though the archers and crossbowmen could aim their weapons straight up at the diving dragon, they had little chance of hurting him, or even causing significant injury.

'Aim for his eyes!' Nolen yelled, propping his greatmace against the crenellations and grabbing a crossbow. For once, he wished that Caewyn was here. He was not fond of elves, like many of his fellow Dragon Knights, but even the ones who hated her had to admit that she was a brilliant shot, able to put a bolt through a sky dragon's eye even as it flew at speed.

Bolts and arrows flew to meet Vylgranox, but his breath dissolved them into nothing as he dived. This time he unleashed his acidic fumes upon the keep itself, spewing the vapours across one side. The thick stonework turned to sludge and flowed away, causing the roof to fall and crush those still inside. The only two wizards who'd served in the castle were amongst those flattened by the rubble.

Cursing the dragon, Nolen struggled to reload the crossbow with his thick gauntlets, his awkward sollerets difficult to fit into the stirrup.

As Vylgranox swooped across the battlements, he swept his spiny tail across the wall, smashing and lacerating men too slow to avoid it. One of the spines caught Nolen as he struggled with the crossbow, spinning him off the wall and tearing one of his spaulders off.

Nolen hit the ground heavily. He struggled for breath, his plate dented by the impact. Several scales had been knocked free by the impact, and the weight of the armour grew as its power was lessened by the loss.

Nolen pushed himself up and his fingers found his greatmace. It had been knocked from the wall. A couple of the blades on its head were bent, but it would still serve.

By now, Vylgranox had effectively wiped out the siege engines and their crews. There were only a few archers left, and Vylgranox chose to wipe them out next. Without them, he would be unassailable from the ground so long as he remained airborne.

Arrows bounced impotently off his slab-like iron grey scales as he swept past, sweeping men from the walls with his tail and reducing them to steaming messes with his breath. This was an opponent the men of Steelpoint Vigil had never dreamed of facing even in their darkest nightmares. They had not stood a chance against him.

Now he landed in the courtyard, hissing, his surreal eyes swimming with swirling red and blue. The few who remained to stand against him were brave, but doomed. They were cut to pieces by his scimitar-like claws and shredded by his needle-sharp teeth.

Nolen stood his ground with trembling limbs as Vylgranox approached slowly, casually spitting out a partially chewed torso still clad in ruined armour. 'I will not flee from you, Eldwurm.'

'Good,' Vylgranox hissed. 'That is good. I need answers from you, Castellan.' He moved closer still, lowering his head down to Nolen's level. 'Where is the abomination?'

Nolen responded by swinging his mace. Vylgranox answered with a swipe of his clawed foot.

Nolen screamed as his mace flew through the air, his arm severed cleanly below the elbow. Desperate and faced with certain death, only able to try to meet the end with some dignity, he channelled his armour's power. Fallen weapons clattered and rose up as if held by invisible hands. By Nolen's will, they flew at the Eldwurm.

Vylgranox chuckled, amused. He waited until the weapons were almost upon them, then cast his nullifying power upon Nolen. The weapons fell to the ground.

Nolen fell to his knees, unable to manage the full weight of his armour. Blood spurted from his arm.

Vylgranox moved closer and placed the tip of one claw under Nolen's chin. Blood trickled from his flesh and down the claw. 'Now, Castellan. I believe I asked you a question. I need an answer.'

'May the gods curse you, dragon!'

'You know nothing of curses, mortal.' Vylgranox whispered, his face within an inch of Nolen's now. The man's helm sizzled as Vylgranox's breath wafted across it, scalding his skin and eyes through his visor. 'Where is the abomination?'

Nolen shuddered, more blood coursing from his chin. 'My best Dragon Knight is hunting him. When she is done with him, she'll come for you. Mark my words, dragon, she will see her brothers-in-arms avenged.'

Vylgranox drew back his lips from his sharp teeth. 'Good. Thank you, Castellan. You can die knowing that your best Dragon Knight will join you and your brothers in death.' He lifted his forelimb, driving the claw through Nolen's head and out through the top of his coif and his bascinet.

Vylgranox flicked the corpse off his claws and into the wall with a desultory flick. He still did not know where the abomination was, but now he knew one thing: another Dragon Knight was hunting him. If he could find this Dragon Knight, he would find the abomination.

Vylgranox took to the skies once again. He would not rest until the Thunder was cleansed.


Eserren had not been wrong. Only a few hours after leaving the way-station, they had been attacked.

This time it had been a small group of trolls lying in ambush, and their ambush had failed miserably.

Heeding the fear of the horses and Sagan's wariness, Marci, Caewyn and Fymryn had moved ahead. Though Caewyn could not cloak herself in shadow, she was quiet and light on her feet, and Marci could be subtle when she wanted to be.

When Davion and Eserren had attacked, supported by Mirana from Sagan's saddle, Marci, Caewyn and Fymryn had attacked the trolls from behind.

There had been more than a few memorable kills. Caewyn had launched one of her sparkler bolts into the ringleader's head, and the burning sparks emitted by the bolt had sent several lesser trolls scrambling, clawing at their sizzling flesh. With their large weapons, Davion and Eserren had carved their way through their would-be ambushers as Marci and Fymryn battered and cut their way through the rest.

Davion withdrew the blade of his sword from one of the corpses, his upper arm stinging from a knife wound. He heard an unpleasant crunching sound as Eserren tore the blade of her bardiche free from a skull. 'Anybody hurt?'

'Fymryn's injured!' Caewyn called.

'I'm fine.' Fymryn was clutching her upper arm. 'It's just a flesh wound.' She cast a grateful smile at Marci. 'Thank you. You saved my life.'

Marci simply smiled and shrugged in response, unfazed the blood dripping from a cut on her forearm. Tiny golden lights danced in her eyes, slowly fading away. If she had not acted when she did, Fymryn would have lost her arm, and her life.

Though those little pinpricks of light were appearing in her eyes more frequently during fights, Marci had yet to fully "unleash" as she had when fighting Kaden.

They were heading into dangerous territory. Kestren had sent the Dragon Knights out to kill many dragons over the decades. Though this had saved many settlements from dragon attacks, it had given many other creeps and monsters the opportunity to spread across the province. With Kestren's army in disarray, there was nothing but the local militias to cull the local monster populations.

Though they did not know about the fall of Steelpoint Vigil, its destruction meant that the province would fall within years if nothing was done. Unless another nation marched in to take control, Kestren would become home only to wild and dangerous beasts, dragons foremost amongst them.

With that ambush out of the way, they continued onwards. Bearing in mind the weight their mounts would have to manage, they sought to balance the distribution as well as they could. Caewyn now shared Eserren's horse, having loaned hers to Davion. Fymryn shared his saddle, as Sagan obeyed Marci's commands over all others, which was why Marci rode with Mirana.

Their going was not as fast as hoped. Though Mirana's leg was healing, they could ill-afford to ride quickly lest they cause her further injury.

Marci seemed to be slightly jealous of Fymryn being so close to Davion now, but not terribly worried. Though the growth of affection between her and Davion was mostly unknown to the others, she trusted Davion to behave himself. As for Fymryn... well, the threat of a kick might be enough to discourage her.

'How fares your leg, Princess?' Caewyn called cheerily from the front, sitting in front of Eserren.

'A little bit better than it was, but I still can't stand on it.' Mirana replied. 'Why?'

'Because I'm eager to find out who is the better shot.' Caewyn answered. 'Maybe we could shoot from our saddles.'

'Later, Caewyn,' Eserren interjected. Noticing Caewyn's crestfallen look, she chuckled and ruffled the elf's blonde hair. 'When we're somewhere safe, you can have your game.'

Davion rubbed his forehead, a soft groan escaping him.

'Davion?' Fymryn tried to peer around his shoulder. 'Is something wrong?'

Davion grimaced. 'Caewyn? Is the warbler still working?'

Caewyn fished the odd device out of its bag and peered at it. The pulsing was a little fainter. She gave it a shake, but this made little difference. 'Damn it!' Caewyn slipped it back into the bag. 'It's starting to fail.'

This was why Davion have never put much stock in warblers. They were not reliable. Better to trust a length of sharp steel. Then again, that warbler was the only thing keeping Slyrak under control.

'Can you fix it?' Mirana asked.

'You don't fix a warbler.' Eserren stated grimly. 'You replace it when it stops working.'

'Wonderful.' Davion muttered. 'Marci, looks like you might get to punch me again.'

Marci seemed less than enthused by this idea, judging from her expression. She made an odd motion with her hand, then whistled musically.

'I think it is, yes.'

'It's what?' Caewyn inquired.

'The song.' Davion answered. 'Ever since Slyrak bonded himself to me, I've been hearing this sound in my head. Whatever it is, I think it's connected to the other dragons. It changes whenever one is near.'

'I've heard of this,' Eserren murmured. 'The scholars call it the Thunder. The warblers are supposed to interfere with it.'

'Don't ask us how, though.' Caewyn said. 'Because we have no idea.'

Davion pressed his fingers against his forehead, his head was throbbing painfully. The sound was not too intense yet, but it was aggravating Slyrak.

There was something else there too, something which filled him with fear: the tolling of funeral bells. That could mean only one thing. Vylgranox was searching for him once again. A confrontation was inevitable, but Davion still did not understand why this was happening.

Marci turned Sagan around and rode over. She touched his arm, looking up at him with concern.

'Bells.' Davion murmured, knowing what she wanted to ask. 'He's back.' He looked round at Eserren. 'Vylgranox. Whenever he is hunting me, I can hear bells in my head.'

'Kaden warned the Order about him.' Eserren looked to the sky. 'Follow me. We need to find cover.'

Marci coaxed Sagan into a quick walk, trying not to disturb Mirana's broken leg. Davion and Fymryn followed. The horses were growing agitated, sensing the fear of their riders. Sagan sensed it too, but for him it meant the possibility of battle, and he growled low in his throat. Marci whistled to him and he quietened.

Led by Eserren, they rode into the cover of the trees, moving further under the canopy. The trees would not stop Vylgranox, but they might make it harder for him to find them. Even though the warbler was failing, it was still emitting its strange pulses.

Shrouded by the leaves above, they followed Eserren in further. She and Caewyn obviously knew this area well, an impression reinforced when they found the skeleton of what could only be a dragon. The skull had been cleaved by a large, axe-like blade—Eserren's bardiche.

Davion recognised the unusual structure of the wing-bearing limbs. There were four of them rather than two. The skull was also pyramidal in shape, with hooked barbs extended from the chin, and the skeleton ended with a tail which extended into two whip-like cords of bone. 'A chaos dragon.'

'The first dragon I ever laid eyes on.' Caewyn remarked. 'She nearly scared me to death.'

'They scare us all, Caewyn.' Eserren murmured. 'This one was too eager for her own good, and much too aggressive. The other Dragon Knights took the scales. I don't trust the powers of chaos dragons.'

'You didn't hunt this one alone?' Fymryn noted.

'Chaos dragons are amongst the most dangerous and bloodthirsty of all dragons, even when compared to fire dragons.' Caewyn explained. 'Chaos dragons kill for fun. It's hard to tell when the Madness is upon one.'

'Madness?'

'When dragons age, they become vulnerable to an affliction we call the Madness.' Eserren dismounted from her horse and strode over to the skeleton. 'We don't know why. Nobody does, except perhaps the Eldwurms themselves.'

Marci climbed down and took a look at the skeleton, her eyes full of wonderment.

'And they won't tell us.' Caewyn added. 'But apparently, they sometimes fall prey to it too. It might depend on how old their avatars are.'

Uldorak's avatar had been old, Davion recalled that. He had guessed that the earth dragon he had faced outside Barreltown had gone insane. If an Eldwurm suffered from the Madness, it would probably drive its lesser kin mad too, until its soul moved to a saner host.

What if Slyrak caught it too? Davion was no dragon, but his case was, as far as he knew, unique.

'You did well on that day, Caewyn.' Eserren ran her fingers across a hole in the skeleton's snout.

'I... nearly wet myself.' Caewyn flushed.

'But you didn't, which is more than can be said for others in the Order.' Eserren turned to fix Davion with an intense stare. 'I don't know what others have told you, Davion, but I didn't take on Caewyn as my squire out of simple pity. She wanted to fight, and she proved herself worthy of joining the Order.'

'So I've seen.' Davion said, rubbing his forehead. 'How safe are we here?' He dismounted, nearly knocking Fymryn off the horse by accident.

Eserren looked around. 'A little safer than we were in the open. Why? You look as though you have come to a decision.'

Davion sighed. 'I'm tired of not having answers. Terrorblade is after me for some reason, and so is Vylgranox. I think it's about time we found out why.' He started to remove his jerkin. 'And only Slyrak can tell us.'

'Davion?' Mirana frowned as he removed his tunic. 'What are you doing?'

'Don't stop him!' Fymryn's eyes had gone wide and were full of excitement.

'I'm going to force Slyrak to take control.' Davion explained, loosening his belt. 'I'll need you to stop the warbler for a moment, then activate it when he emerges. It might help.' He paused and looked Marci in the eye. 'If he gets out of control, you might be the only one who can stop him, Marci.'

Marci nodded.

Davion smiled at her. 'I can live with a headache, Marci. I trust you.' He loosened his belt. 'But he wants to kill you. If you have to kill me to stop him, do it.'

Marci shook her head, her eyes narrowed.

Davion chuckled. 'I would argue, but I know better than to try with you.'

Eserren reached out and covered Caewyn's eyes with her hand. 'Mum!' Caewyn whined. 'Mum, I'm not a child! I'm old enough to—'

'It's a matter of courtesy, Caewyn.' Eserren had averted her eyes.

'Try telling that to Marci and Fymryn.' Mirana muttered.

'Does he do this often?' Caewyn asked.

'It seems to be a bad habit of his, yes.'

'You seem to be more used to it than them.'

'He's not my type.'

'I can hear you.' Davion muttered. By now, he was used to Marci staring at him. But her eyes were fixed on his. He inhaled deeply. 'Caewyn, stop the warbler.' He reached out and stroked Marci's cheek, mustering a brave smile. 'See you in a bit, Songbird.'

The ululating din ceased as Caewyn silenced the warbler. The song grew louder in his head, as did the ringing of the bells. He felt the blood thunder in his ears and his body start to swell. A flare of pain made him cry out as the scales sliced through his skin and his body grew larger.

Eserren lifted her bardiche and Caewyn loaded one of her custom bolts as the wings and tail erupted from Davion's skin. Knowing that her knives would not help against Slyrak, Fymryn quickly tugged the warhammer from Eserren's saddle. Mirana had nocked an arrow to her bowstring.

Only Marci remained in place, willing the strange power to fill her. Golden lights flickered in her eyes. She still could not rouse the power fully, but a fraction of it had been enough to stop Slyrak once before.

As Slyrak opened his eyes, Caewyn shook the warbler. Slyrak growled and snapped at her.

Marci lifted her leg and thrust her leg forwards, her foot flat against Slyrak's scaly belly. He was shoved back, not far, but enough to make him pause.

Slyrak fixed Marci with his sinister yellow eyes. 'You. Do you have any idea how irritating his fixation with you is, mongrel? You occupy his thoughts constantly, when he should be thinking about more important matters.' Slyrak ground his large teeth. 'Some of his imaginings are very crude where you are concerned.'

Marci arched an eyebrow, her cheeks reddening slightly.

'You mortals are such base things.' Slyrak growled. 'Silence that irritation or I will destroy you all.'

'I think we'll let the warbler sing a little longer.' Caewyn murmured, staring up at Slyrak.

'We have questions for you, Eldwurm.' Mirana aimed her bow at the creature's eye. 'And you're going to answer them.'

'Why should I even consider answering your demands, human?'

'You want something from Davion. Perhaps we can help you. We've all seen Terrorblade now. Don't you think that we might want to stop him?'

Slyrak growled. 'You have no hope of fighting him. Not even this mongrel could defeat him. She nearly succumbed to his honeyed words once. I would sooner spill her polluted blood than put faith in her weak will.'

'Enough,' Eserren grated. 'Speak plainly, Eldwurm. Why did you force your soul into Davion's body?'

Slyrak snorted and advanced on Marci. She lifted her fists, the light in her eyes flaring as she bared her teeth.

Slyrak stopped, seeming uncertain for once. As much as he hated and undervalued Marci, he was clearly wary of her abilities. She had subdued him once before, which was actually a first for him. Not even Kaden had come close to besting him, and he had made his purpose to defeat him.

'We will make a deal with you, Slyrak.' Mirana offered. 'Tell us what we want to know, and we will try to help you. Terrorblade is a threat to us all, I'm sure we can all agree on that. Now answer Lady Eserren's question.'

Slyrak growled again, flames flickering between his teeth. 'Ignorant mortals. I had no choice because of you and your vaunted Dragon Knights. Too many of my avatars had been slain, and Terrorblade marked my soul when I confronted him. If I had tried to transplant my soul into another dragon, he would have claimed me. I had no choice but to make your precious Davion my refuge.'

'Why does Terrorblade want your soul?' Caewyn demanded.

'Why do you think, elf? He wants what all of his kind desire: power. But Terrorblade is the most ambitious and greedy of all his fell kin. He was imprisoned by his fellow Demons for stealing from them, trapped in a prison of tormenting mirrors for all eternity. But he discovered how to force a piece of himself into this world, and he learned of a way to gain absolute power.

You mortals could not possibly understand our power or our importance. We Eldwurms are the pillars of creation itself. We are the essence of the world made manifest.'

Marci's eyes widened. Without turning away from Slyrak, she made a couple of gestures with her hands, accompanied by whistles.

'You can't be serious!' Mirana whispered.

Marci whistled once, low and quiet.

Mirana gaped for a moment. 'Slyrak... Marci is saying that if the Demon takes the souls of the Eldwurms he will control creation. Is that true?'

Slyrak looked down at Marci, a glimmer of respect in his yellow eyes showing just for a moment. 'Impure you may be, but you are not as simple as you seem to be, mongrel. But it is worse than that. If Terrorblade succeeds in taking the souls of my kin, he will not just control the powers of creation. He will be able to re-make this world. He will be the master of all of creation.'

They all stared up at him, words not enough to describe the mingled feelings of terror, horror and amazement running through each of them. Even the horses seemed to be stunned by the enormity of Terrorblade's ambitions.

Mirana swallowed. 'Selemene forgive me, but I'm not sure the lotuses matter now.'

'Seek your lotuses, Princess of the Moon.' Slyrak grated. 'You are of no use to me.'

'Arrogant dragon!' Eserren snarled. 'You claim to be superior, yet you needed to bind yourself to a mere human to survive. Surely you would not have made it this far without the help you and Davion had from Mirana, Marci and Fymryn, not to mention me and Caewyn. Swallow your pride, Slyrak, and accept that Terrorblade is as much our enemy as he is yours.'

'Marci killed Kaden, saving you as well as Davion.' Fymryn added. 'So you should stop calling her a mongrel. Why are you even calling her that? She's human, just like Mirana.'

Slyrak fixed her with a burning stare. 'Do you really believe that, elf?' He actually started to laugh, turning his gaze to Mirana. 'I have seen through Davion's eyes and listened through his ears. You claim to know your little pet better than anybody else, yet even you cannot see the truth. Even your precious goddess did not know the truth.' He turned his baleful eyes on Marci now, the black slits cutting like blades. 'And neither do you. You do not deserve the power in your blood. Davion was not the first to bear the blood of something greater, no, there were others long before him.

Do you understand, mongrel? Can you comprehend the truth? You are a scion of one of the wurm-forged. You are the bearer of a dragon's blood.'