The Legacy of Magic
The One Where Dragons Fell
Balinor stepped into the grand audience chamber, where the weight of countless decisions seemed to have been compressed into the air, suffocating the room. King Uther Pendragon loomed before him at the head of the table, his fingers steepled underneath his chin.
"Ah, Balinor," Uther began, his voice rolling through the room like thunder over the fields of barley and rye. "Your presence graces us once more."
The Dragonlord inclined his head, his long, inky black hair catching the flickering torchlight. "Sire," he replied as he scrutinized the King. "You summoned me?"
"Sit, my old friend," Uther offered, gesturing toward a chair that seemed far too dainty for either of their broad frames. Balinor lowered himself into the seat with the grace of a cat avoiding a puddle— deliberate and somewhat distrustful. He straightened his robes and looked at Uther expectantly, eyebrow raised. "An audience is what I seek," Uther declared after a minute of staring into Balinor's eyes expectantly.
"I was under the impression that this is what this was," Balinor cocked his head to the side. His eyes turned toward the chess game that Uther seemed to be halfway through. With a thoughtful sigh, he took out the white knight and smiled pointedly at Uther.
"With the Great Dragon," Uther said with a roll of his eyes, used to Balinor's antics. "I would like you to bring him to me. His counsel would be… invaluable."
Balinor snorted, "Surely you jest." He snickered and shook his head. "Kilgharrah would sooner dance at his brethren's funerals than entertain your company."
Uther sighed heavily and motioned for one of the servants to pour them some wine. "I, of course, understand. However, times have changed, old friend," Uther smiled, but it did not quite reach his eyes. "We must extend olive branches where we once brandished swords."
"Olive branches tend to catch fire around dragons," Balinor said dryly. "Much like innocents upon a pyre." He nodded towards the chessboard, "Especially when the chessboard has been set ablaze." His eyes glowed gold as if to prove his point, and the board went up in flames.
"I was winning that," Uther said, almost petulantly.
"No, you weren't," was Balinor's cool reply. His eyes glowed again, and the flames were gone, leaving behind the burnt remains of the chessboard and its pieces.
"You will speak with him?" Uther pressed.
"Speak? Yes. But promising his arrival?" Balinor leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper. "That, Sire, would require magic beyond even what I can conjure."
"Then let us hope that you can get through to him," Uther concluded, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed as he studied the burnt chessboard before him.
"Let us hope indeed," Balinor reached over and flicked his finger to knock down the only piece on the board that had survived his fire, the King.
~o0o~
Three weeks later, Balinor stood in the castle square, surrounded by his fellow Dragonlords. The banners of Camelot danced in the wind above their heads, creating an ambiance of tension. His heart pounded against his ribs as he awaited Kilgharrah's return from his audience with the King.
"Extend an olive branch," he muttered, repeating Uther's promise. He glanced around at his fellow Dragonlords, each with expressions ranging from apprehension to cautious optimism. They put their trust in him, and we would do everything in his power to not disappoint them.
"We need to stay calm and composed," Balinor advised as he watched the Dragonlords pace around him. "We must show King Uther that we aren't a threat to his kingdom."
"Easy for you to say," mumbled Ozias, his hands shaking ever so slightly. "It's not every day that we stand in the kingdom of the king who has sworn to eradicate all magic kind."
"Yes," Balinor said, glancing up at the castle. "But today will not be that day." He silently hoped that if their years of friendship had meant anything to Uther, it would make him keep his word.
Balinor sighed and looked up at the sky. He thought things must be going well. Since the meeting began, he hadn't heard one sarcastic comment from Kilgharrah through their mind link. Perhaps he was taking the audience more seriously than Balinor had initially thought, or he was just taking his time before unleashing his wry observations. "Perhaps the olive branch is simply an olive branch and not a sword in disguise."
He glanced over at Aurelius and froze when he noticed the man beside him had gone pale, his brown eyes wide with alarm. "What's wrong!?" Balinor asked, reaching out to hold his friend's arm as Aurelius's knees buckled.
"I can't sense Saoirse," he said urgently, referring to his young dragon companion he had left in the nearby forest with the other dragons.
"What?"
"Something's wrong," Lazarus chimed in, his lip worried between his teeth. "I can't feel Orla."
"Ruairi!" Ozias cried out, his voice cracking as he frantically scanned the skies above the forest, thinking maybe Ruairi's mischievous nature had him chasing the other dragons again. "Where is he?"
"Hwær eart þu?, Darragh?" Maximus called out, desperation evident in his tone. He waited a brief moment before calling out again, louder this time. "Cume nu,Darragh!" Absolute silence met his frantic calls. "Darragh never ignores a call. Something's wrong."
As Maximus moved towards the forest, a wall of guards blocked his path, their faces impassive and cold. "Let me through!" he demanded, but they did not budge from their positions. "Something is wrong with my dragon, and you won't keep me from him!"
"They're dead." Uther's strong voice echoed through the square as he slowly walked down the castle steps, a knight on either side. The King's gaze swept over the Dragonlords with his piercing blue eyes.
"Uther, what did you do!?" Balinor demanded. He pushed his way to the front of the group, shielding them from Uther, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine.
"How could you do that to them!?" Ozias cried. "They've done nothing!"
"Dragons are borne of magic," Uther proclaimed. "They must be destroyed."
Balinor growled, his magic thrumming underneath his skin as ice-cold disbelief and horror washed over him. Those were the last of the dragons; if what Uther said was true, that would mean… he clenched his hands into fists as he struggled to process the magnitude of their loss.
He took several deep breaths to try and calm the ragged gasps escaping him as he stared down Uther, searching for any sign that it was all a cruel joke.
But Uther's eyes held no hint of humour, only cold determination. As Balinor looked around at his fellow Dragonlords— their faces a mixture of shock, grief, and anger— he knew that Uther's words were true. The fate of the Dragonlords had changed in an instant, and now they truly did stand on the precipice of annihilation.
"Kill them," Uther ordered, his voice echoing through the square like a death knell.
Balinor's mind raced when he realized he had to get his fellow Dragonlords out of Camelot before they were all slaughtered. They were a peaceful people, akin to Druids, and stood no chance against knights trained for death.
Chaos erupted as the Knights charged toward the stunned Dragonlords, their swords gleaming in the sun. Balinor raised his arms, his fingers tracing ancient patterns in the air, invoking his magic.
"Wágþeorl!" Balinor whispered his eyes glowing gold as the ground beneath the charging Knights' feet began to shake and break violently, disorienting them and giving them precious seconds to flee. "Go, now!" Balinor urged them, and they scattered, scurrying past the fallen guards, looking for somewhere they could go until they could get out into the forest.
With a flick of his wrist, Balinor conjured whipping cords of bright blue flames wrapped around several knights' arms, forcing them to drop their weapons and allowing several Dragonlords to slip from their grasp.
He skidded to a stop by Lazarus, who was frozen in place, eyes wide in terror, and grabbed him by the arm. Together, they sprinted out of range of the arrows that began flying from the castle's top.
They crouched behind a towering stone statue of one of the past kings, watching closely for another opening. "Are you mad?" Lazarus panted, his face flush with adrenaline and fear. "We can't outrun them!"
Balinor smirked at his friend as he raised his hand, murmuring, "For-ûtan!" under his breath. A burst of energy shot from his fingertips, catching an approaching knight square in the chest, throwing them off their feet and into a wall, rendering them unconscious. "Go!" he urged Lazarus. "If you have a chance to escape, don't look back. Any hesitation can mean your life!"
With a nod, Lazarus took off, sprinting through the chaos towards safety, leaving Balinor behind. As he watched his friend disappear into the fray, Balinor couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. Shaking it off, he turned his attention to Maximus, whom a group of menacing knights surrounded.
"Time for a watery surprise," Balinor muttered, conjuring snake-like ropes of water from a nearby fountain with a flick of his wrist. They slithered through the air, wrapping tightly around the knights as they struggled to maintain their balance. Balinor tightened the watery bonds with a satisfied grin, bringing the men to their knees.
"Go, Maximus!" he shouted above the din, earning a grateful nod from the burly Dragonlord as he escaped, the serpentine ropes of water dissolving back into harmless droplets.
"Go, Maximus indeed," came a voice behind him, causing Balinor to whirl around, ready to face yet another foe. But instead, he found himself staring into the amused eyes of Lazarus, who had apparently doubled back in the confusion.
"Really, old friend?" Lazarus teased, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You should know by now that I never listen."
Balinor rolled his eyes and couldn't help but chuckle despite the circumstances. "Yes, I should have known better," he replied dryly, clasping Lazarus on the shoulder. "Now, let's get out of here."
Balinor's eyes fell upon a horrifying sight as they navigated through the chaos and bloodshed. Aurelius, his childhood friend, lay prone on the ground, dark hair disheveled and eyes closed in what looked like sleep. Not far from him, Ivo's tall, slender frame was slumped lifelessly, his once-golden glittering powers fading from existence right before their very eyes.
"By the dragons..." Balinor whispered, anguish gripping his heart as he watched Ozias, another dear friend, almost make it to the gates before a ruthless knight tore him down mercilessly. The Dragonlord's powers quickly left his body, disappearing into the void like those of Ivo.
"Stay focused, Balinor," Lazarus urged solemnly, his eyes filled with sorrow. "We can grieve later. Right now, we need to get out of here."
"Right," Balinor agreed, though the weight of the losses pressed heavily upon him. With a deep breath, he decided to split off from Lazarus, using his magic to slip unnoticed into the castle, seeking refuge and a chance to regroup with Kilgharrah, whom he could still feel was alive.
His eyes glowed as he made himself invisible, forcing his breath to quieten. He pressed himself against the cold stone wall, watching, wide-eyed, as knights passed before him, sometimes as close as mere centimeters away.
Once the coast was clear, Balinor slipped up the stairs and into the open door of the castle. Outside, it was too covered in Knights for him to be able to leave; he would have to stay in the castle until early morning.
His footsteps were light and calculated, his piercing eyes scanning every shadow for hidden dangers. The familiar halls of Camelot seemed foreign and menacing now, and the tension of being hunted within these walls made each step feel like an eternity.
Balinor…
As he moved through the dimly lit corridors, Balinor felt the familiar presence of Kilgharrah in his mind. Kilgharrah?
Balinor… you must escape…
Balinor looked frantically around him. Kilgharrah, where are you, old friend? There weren't many places they could have hidden a dragon in Camelot.
Find Giaus, he will help you… you must escape. You are the only one left…
I can't just leave you! Balinor protested.
Find Giaus, Balinor… find Giaus and escape…
'Kilgharrah!' Balinor growled and looked around, thinking of all the hidden places he and Uther had found when they were children. Kilgharrah was close; he could feel him. He just couldn't get a read on where.
"Where would one hide a dragon?" Balinor muttered, his fingers running across the stone walls in thought.
"I imagine in the caves below Camelot, but that's just me." A voice came from behind him.
"Gaius!" Balinor yelped and turned, nearly tripping over his cape. "How can you see me?"
"I've magic of my own." The older man said with a smile. "Very little of it, mind."
"Kilgharrah is near, but I can't pinpoint his location," Balinor said urgently. "We need to get him out of here."
Gaius nodded solemnly. "I understand your concern for Kilgharrah, but we must prioritize your escape first. He is safe for the time being."
"Safe?" Balinor sputtered. "How can you be sure?"
"Trust me, Balinor." Gaius motioned with his head towards a flight of stairs leading to the castle's lower floors. "The caves below Camelot are well-fortified and hard to access. It'll take them time to reach him. You, on the other hand, are in far greater danger."
Balinor hesitated, and Kilgharrah must have felt it because a quick Go with him was yelled in his mind by the irritable dragon. He relented with a heavy sigh. "Very well, help me escape, and then I shall return for Kilgharrah when it is safer to do so."
Gaius nodded and began to lead Balinor deeper into the castle. They moved quickly and quietly, navigating through hidden passages that even Balinor and Uther hadn't found in their youth. As they prepared for their departure, Balinor caught sight of Hunith, her eyes filled with sorrow and worry."
Balinor's heart shattered as he held Hunith in his arms, their bodies pressed together in a desperate embrace. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the remnants of their shared sorrow. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair, feeling like a failure for not being able to stay with her or protect his people. "I never wanted this for us," Balinor whispered, his voice trembling with regret. "But I will do what must be done."
Hunith clung to him as if she could hold onto him forever, knowing that this may be their last chance to say goodbye. She buried her face in his chest and tried to hold back her sobs. She could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it pained her that he had to carry such a heavy burden.
"Promise me you'll come back to me," she pleaded, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes.
"I promise," he replied, his voice breaking with emotion.
Their gazes locked, and time seemed to stand still as they held onto each other, their hearts beating as one. The intensity of their love radiated between them like a blazing fire that could never be extinguished.
In a rush of passion and desperation, they pressed their lips together in a fervent kiss, pouring all of their love and longing into each other.
But even as time seemed to stand still and the universe mourned their parting, Gaius cleared his throat, reminding them of the limited time they had left.
As they reluctantly pulled away, their eyes locked once more. "This is not goodbye," Balinor whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.
"It's 'see you later'." Hunith let out a wet laugh before pulling away from him. "Go now and be safe," she said with a brave smile.
With a last tender kiss to her cheek, Balinor and Gaius vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a trail of bittersweet memories and an uncertain future. As they made their way through the dark corridors, Balinor couldn't help but feel a pang of grief for his fallen brethren, fear for what was to come, and overwhelming love for the woman he was leaving behind.
He set his jaw as they neared the exit, a strange mixture of grief and relief filling his body. He would escape with his life, but at what cost? His fellow Dragonlords were gone, their dragons slaughtered, and the woman he loved left behind under a tyrant's rule.
"Stay focused, Balinor," Gaius murmured, sensing his struggle.
"Indeed," Balinor replied, swallowing hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We must honor their memory by ensuring their sacrifice was not in vain."
It was then that they reached a hidden door leading out into the night. With one final glance back at the castle that had once been his home, Balinor stepped through the doorway and into an uncertain future.
I thank you for reading the first chapters of this novella!
If you have any feedback/questions/comments for me, please let me know. I love hearing what others think!
Stay well,
Magical Sniper