Chapter 19: I'm Not A Dragon….

Landing the vessels was an easy task for Walt and the 100 in his company. The small island with a single volcano had easy beach access free from reef and rocks to damage any ships inbound. The island was small, while Wiera seemed a lifetime from the shoreline, and Jali engulfed more than the eye and imagination could see. The men as they disembarked onto the land could see edges and noticed on approach how easily the island could be circumnavigated in perhaps a day or two. "EYES SHARP!" Walt called to the men as he stepped down from his boat. "We are here for one reason, to conquer and claim anything of note or value." The soldiers understood. Whereas the war to the coast back on the mainland and the siege of Jali were wars to subjugate and gain a suzerain territory for the capitol, this was a pure burn and pillage mission.

The party moved around the isle, the trees and vegetation were thick in many places, with seemingly no human activity. The island clearly had been nurtured by the volcano on the island, with everything thick and green and healthy. The color bewildered the men as they moved in squads and fanned the territory looking for anything. The island that seemed so small from the coast now felt like an endless labyrinth of trees and brush. The heat and humidity of the day began to swelter as the men continued marching fully ready for war, knights in thick armor with lances and shields in place for a moment's surprise.

Walt and the others found themselves wondering if anyone really ever had been on the island and if there was any wealth or even anything at all on this small plot of land far removed from the issues and conflicts of Wiera.

"SIR! A PATHWAY!" A soldier called to others. The men soon gathered up around the finding still with their guard up. The path was worn, but paved with obsidian, cooled volcanic glass. The black path was partially covered by brush and tree but still clearly present. As the lead group moved along the pathway and looked along, they could see it led upwards upon the steps of the volcano. The mountain seemed dormant but could still tell that the mountain was in fact a volcano. Walt signaled the men to form a column and walk along the path.

"Timons, keep a squad here at the base of the path with you. The rest of us are going up this pathway." The knight saluted the officer giving the command. About ten of the men remained at the base of the volcano as others ascended the paved obsidian road.

As the path continued, it began ascending the mountain and then spiraling the sides slightly, yet it remained as wide at the base as it did along the cliff. The men gazed back down and found themselves confused as to how they were unable to see the pathway back before they found it. It seems to them that all they had to do was look upon the volcano and the path would have been visible and yet they never noticed it. This black path so far was the only sign of any human activity, beorc or laguz. Soon the men reached a spot that had an arched and carved black obsidian doorway, ornate and lavish. The arch stood nearly 40 feet tall and wide enough for nearly 30 men across to enter. The path halted here and the doorway led into the volcano itself. Thin layers of steam seemed to hang in the air around the door, creating a mystery and something of a fog guarding from the eyes what was inside the doorway.

"Boss" One knight called at the lead as Walt arrived at the door. "Sir! What is in there? Is it a dragon?"

"If it is a dragon. We are to bring him to lord Seutonis in on Wiera proper, or kill it and bring the body to the capitol." Walt said as he scoped the doorway up and down attempting to conceal any traces of fear in him.

"Sir. How? I thought dragons….were a myth!"

"Many myths are simply truths that we have forgotten to properly record." Another soldier retorted.

"Now Now!" Walt called to get the men under control before potential panic or mutiny set upon them. "We are here to slash and burn. Now this place looks full of some secret wealth. Let's go and get it!"

"FOR THE BRUIN!" All bashed their shields and readied into formation as they entered the doorway. Thudding in a line of shields and lances 4 deep with Walt presiding in the most central of positions of the formation the men marched into the steamy dark abyss. The dark swallowed them whole and with each step into the deep the hall felt larger, and yet, warmer. The steam thicker, and with the steam a heat the men were not accustomed to feeling upon their person. Shields began to drag along the obsidian floor adding a clanging and scraping noise alongside to sounded thundering feet. Lance tips soon slouched from their thrusting post to nearing and nearing the floor.

"What is this place." A soldier muttered to himself as the thickness of the air still hid the view.

Finally, after nearly 40 steps inside the doorway the light from the outside and the air inside along with lava below, barely visible, and yet present, revealed the contents of the hall. Men began to stop marching and while staying formation all eyes gazed around the black glass hall. Nothing. Nothing. No furniture, no treasure, no writing. No servants, no smell of food. Nothing seemed to showcase anything of any presence of beings.

"All this way for nothing?" "WHY DOES THIS PLACE EXIST?" The men started grumbling as more and more of the contents revealed nothing of value with each second of adjustment to their eyes. No jewels, people, art. Nothing was in the hallway.

"WAIT LOOK OVER THERE!" Finally the eyes had adjusted enough of one man to see a simple black throne. And near it a simple seemingly ancient straw bed, one that seemed so used that is barely looked like it had another day's use remaining. The men locked in their eyes upon the throne and the bed as they were the only objects that appeared to be anything other than simple walls or lava, anywhere.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" "CRACK!" "CRACKKKK!" The men now noticed a figure that had seemed to have arisen from the bed perhaps a few minutes prior. The figure was far off and the men seeing the hall's size felt scared to approach this figure at first.

"YOU THERE!" Walt called to the figure. "Reveal yourself from the shadows! I am Walt a servant of house Bolden, vassal family of lord Chile Bruin, the soon to be lord of all Wiera. Reveal yourself and pledge fealty to your liege!"

"You and your men….make too much noise." The figure spoke in a voice with patience and barely above the tone of a whisper and yet all men in the company heard the calm reply to their leader's command.

"WHAT ARE YOU REVEAL YOURSELF!" Walt feigned courage in this moment he knew it would bolster his troops, perhaps this was an old lizard laguz. Maybe the old legends were truth about this place that had been spoken of in hush whispers along the coastal routes for decades unknown.

"Be quiet, you have already woken me up from a long sleep." Yawning the figure appeared to move in front of the bed and throne. The figure was thin and in an average male's height. Garbed in a black cloak with a long flowing brown hair. His voice was more formed with this call and showed a level of old class that took the men at surprise, it was an old style of speech, but still fully intelligible. "What are you doing in my halls?"

"Very well, I am here to search this island and take anything of value to be used by lord Chile Bruin of Dol to help his dream of total conquest of Wiera to fruition. I was told either great wealth or great might would be on this island and we are here to claim it. By force if needed."

"Oh, it is needed." The figure called back to the leader. All the men crouched back into ready position, attempting to shack the effects of the air and heat.

"Will you not join or yield?"

"You have entered, my retreat, my place of solace and silence dedicated to all that has been and is no more at my hands. Your men stand ready, and make an awful racket, and all without a single bit of courtesy. This is a grave offense. I fear I cannot allow your breath to further taint my halls."

"Silence yourself you foolish lizard!" Walt lunged his arm forward toward the figure. The figure moved his arms into his cloak and after popping his neck and rotating his shoulders he began slowly walking forward.

"I do not appreciate the lack of respect shown in your aberrant hostility. Your lives are now forfeit." The figure halted and his eyes met the eyes of first Walt and then he began surveying the rest of the men, as if he was viewing a butcher's selection of cuts.

"DRAGON YOU DIE HERE!" Walt hollered with confidence. Seeing the figure closer and noticing it was nothing more than an average sized thin man, despite the fear of him being a dragon tribe laguz the leader found himself no longer scared of the mysterious person.

"Oh…..I am no dragon….." The figure in a blink vanished from sight, as he was directly in front of the line of knights. All began to sway their eyes and necks all about in randomly looks while keeping their shields at the ready and their lances in tight rows.

"SHUNK!" silence followed the quick slash and the men followed to sound and rotated to see a man in the from line fall to his knees and drop dead instantly, the figure was now beside the man whose fall created a small gap in the front row. All were taken aback at the disappearing act and quick strike. The man before them seemed calm as ever as if he had made no effort of any kind in the killing. No speedy breathing, no tension in his muscles. Not even a look of strain on his face. The only thing swaying at all upon him was the black cloak he wore still fully concealing his left side and left arm completely. And in his right arm he now brandished a katana sword, beautiful and glistening and knocking light all along the black abyss of wall and floor nearly brightening the hall double.

"YOU STUPID DRAGON WE WILL HANG YOUR CORPSE FROM THE RAFTERS IN DOL!" Walt called out while fear began welling in his chest. His voice cracking at the end of the command knocking the confidence of all in the lines down a tad even without them fully noticing it.

"I…am no dragon." The figure tilted his head back towards the leader and caught his eyes with his once again and left them glaring at the leader. "I am worse."

"SHUNK!"

"SLUSH!"

"TSHHUHH!" The roar of the sword flapped and filled and echoed upon the glass walls and light began gleaming brighter and brighter, blinding and in a way creating a different kind of darkness around as the sound of clanging from armor and shield and lance drops filled the blinding room. Bodies began and flying and falling. Arms and limbs and heads were no nothing more than appearing shrapnel stunting the reflection of the sword upon the halls and as the flurry and chaos of screams and silences and slashing crescendo peaked and began to collapse. The gleaming bright began to fade and be replaced with the screams and the rain of the blood and bodies of these men. As all the while Walt found himself in a trance and believing he was still making personal eye contact with the stagnant figure, despite all signs around him, and evaporation of his compatriots telling him the otherwise. His glare softened as he tried to understand and while he was aware of each second and the screams and flying body parts. He found himself dropping his shield and his lance in amazed astonishment. Still with his gaze upon what he thought was this man.

"What….who…..are you?" He muttered in the smallest of voices as the acceptance of his death slowed and removed the fight from him. The barrage and flurry and scattering continued for a few moments longer and the screams began halting…..Soon the armor stopped clanging and rustling. Then the body parts ceased flying. Followed by the blood no longer spraying all around. Walt had no looked down while on his knees in quiet confusion and awe. He closed his eyes briefly as he now realized that all else that was the scene had stopped. Still on his knees he opens his eyes and looks about. His army of 90 at his side. Now a scattered seas of red, and mangled flesh and armor. No other calls or sounds. No injured men flailing. No gurgling men trying to fight for air. Nothing. Silence.

"Pad. Pad. Pat." The thud of leather boots slowly walking forward sounded and Walt focused his eyes forward to see the man standing before him. Sword clean and in no need of blood wicked from its body. No splatter was upon the man standing before him either. He was clean of any trace of the men. Still no sign of exertion or exhaustion, no hastened breathing, no hustle or joy, sadness, nor regret in the voice. Walt looks up to meet the eyes one last time. They are green, and sad, and while the man was handsome and appearing to be no more than at most 35 years of age, something about the eyes seemed ancient to the kneeling and defeated man.

"Since, you finally seem to realize your place before me, I shall oblige your final quandary." The man spoke in the same calm tone but with slightly more respect to the man than prior. "I am one who knows the old rulers. I have killed more than perhaps exist today. I am one whom all old ones fear. One whom silenced the dragons and warriors of Iagus eons past. One whom has bathed in the blood of a god and know the flesh of the goddess." The man slowly readied his sword in his right arm still with the left fully hidden under the cloak that Walt noticed now for some reason was turned to the side purely to cover the left of the man. "Your legends call me Scythe."

Walt's eyes lit up as the words clicked together memories of old stories and as these thoughts began lining up and revealing themselves to the man, his head had already departed from his body with the final slash of the swordsman, previously thought to be nothing more than a dragon. There was a fearful smile and look upon the man of Bruin's face as Walt's head smacked the black floor. He knew who Scythe was.

"All this mess in my halls." The man calmly stated. He then returned his sword to a sheathe hidden under the left side his body, under the cloak. The floor and hall were littered with flesh and blood and Bruin insignias. The man was still in many ways waking up, without truly having any real recollection as to how long he had been asleep.

"WALT ARE YOU OKAY!" A voice was heard calling from back along the path. Timmons and the remaining men were not aware of what had happened but had heard a racket from clear down the path. Scythe drooped his jawline slightly as he felt a strong need to remove the rest of the thieving men from his dark and formerly clean halls.

"Well….sense I am awake. Perhaps I should hear about this Chile Bruin." The swordsman spoke as he calmly walked outside the volcano hall.

Timmons and the men couldn't quite see from the pathway what had emerged as Scythe was nothing imposing in simply his figure. The men kept their gaze up the pathway and then soon a swift barrage of swipes faster than the eyes could register saw all but Timmons falter to the ground. Timmons began to panic as he realized the fate of all the men with him and attempted to flee.

"THWACK!" The knight fell to his knees. He panicked and was confused as he had told his body to run and flee. He tried again, and again but he couldn't progress further. The knight of Bruin looked down and noticed his legs were sliced through at the knees. He screamed at the visual and now only noticed the pain of the slice hewing himself apart.

"I will free you soon enough." The swordsman now stood before the man simple and calm as he had prior with Walt. Timmons somehow found either an ounce of calm or a pure endorphin rush but he regained his sense. "We shall skip the whom and what questions about myself, and simply will you please inform me about why your lord sent you here and who this Chile Bruin is." Timmons then found himself without delay giving every bit of knowledge of the Bruin house of Dol he knew to this stranger who was his killer. With every question leading to another and another, as if the man had never heard of the free cities, and many of the cities themselves, the houses, or even the very times they were living in. The moments of exchange continued for what an onlooker would think was an eternity. And somehow Timmons had some kind of answer that Scythe could understand.

….

"Is there anything else…sir?" Timmons spoke, his face now pale and looking full drained of blood. His legs had long since stopped hurting as he was fully numb by this point from his ribs down.

"No, you have been most helpful informing this man about the current affairs of the world."

"SLASHHH!" Timmons neck cleanly slit open. Nearly all blood was gone from his body by this point and while death was impending the slash merely finished the process. The knight didn't even gasp as he fell onto his back embracing death.

"Perhaps this Chile Bruin could be a true problem." He thought as he returned his word once more. He listened closely for a moment and heard only the silence and pitters of the trees, and the rolls of the tide upon the shores. "Well...I am awake. Perhaps I should go consult Reto." He thought as he made his way to the shoreline.