Post by Sheikarisxiii on Apr 23, 2009 10:47:31 GMT -5
Note: This is a short story further linking into a main line story I have in the works. I will be posting that other story as I progress on it. Enjoy.
Wind whistled through the dank and moldy caverns of the Khal-Mahtak Mountains this cold winter night, sending a chill through the souls of the group of five mountain climbers trekking through the cave. None of them had ever been this far north, not since the fall of the Dark Kaizer some thirty years before. These mountains had always been said to be a vast and dangerous place even after the Second Dark Catalyst. Regardless, the five of them kept pushing forward through the dark and mist filled caverns. The head mountaineer held his torch up high as the small troop of climbers came into a large opening within the mountain. Setting down their leather packs to rest, four of the climbers, the mountaineer included, proceeded to bed down for the night. Meanwhile, the youngest off the group decided to go off on his own and see what this quite large opening in the mountain had to offer up in return for his curiosity.
"Hey rookie! Don’t you be wandering too far off now, ya’ hear?" the gruff voice of the mountaineer called after him. The rookie disregarded the warning as he felt his way along the rough rock walls to find another passage farther down the side. Strangely enough the young man could see a dim gray light farther down inside the new crevice. Looking back over his shoulder, he debated returning and asking his companions to accompany him. Yet he felt drawn to that new light and began to hypnotically walk towards it. As he neared the light, he could suddenly smell a faint stench of molten and rotted flesh.
Feeling his stomach begin to churn from the smell the young man willed himself to try and turn back but was still caught in the glow of the haunting light. As the source of the light finally came into focus, a thick purple fog of poisonous miasma circled the room. Glancing in the direction of the light, he saw that it came from a gray flamed candle that sat atop the front of a very lavish and richly inscribed coffin of stone. The young man leaned down closer to read the ancient text that was carved into the stone, his mouth moving silently as the candle next too him began to grow ever fainter with each word. Once the last word was read his lips ceased and the candle went out, but not before a skeletal hand with twisted gray skin exploded from the coffin and grasped the youth around the throat . . . .
* * *
The violet and gold banners flew in the bright noon sun from the watch towers surrounding the outer wall of the Silent city as a young man with aqua hair sat atop the high most towers looking out across the vast field surrounding the city. He was a tall youth, roughly nearing his nineteenth, possibly twentieth birthday, with a slender yet well toned frame. His mid shoulder length hair, tied back in a pony tail, blew behind him from the early winter wind that was beginning to permeate across the country. The wind whistled through the inner ring of the inner walls, almost like a small crying animal, and kicked up the snow drifts on the barren earth. This inner ring between the outer and inner walls was completely void of any prairie creature or plant form. It was a ring of death around the inner walls of the city used to trap and dismiss of unwanted visitors.
Hearing this mild cry from the wind caused a shiver to coil down his spine, but the smell of the wind helped reclaim his peace. He inhaled the sweet smell of the fresh day, a scent of new fallen snow from the night before as the sun shown bright across the outer and inner fields. Thinking about the smell made him long for his home of Kori-Village farther to the north, but knew his place was here in this city for the time being.
Stretching his arms up and over behind his head he stood and took a last second gaze out over the field as he casually stepped off of the top of the 300 foot tower. Falling straight down he felt the wind race past him as the cool sting of it caused his left eye to water slightly. The other, hidden behind a black eye-patch with an amethyst crystal over the center to allow his eye to see, glinted with swirled gold and violet energy as it saw the ground coming up faster. As he began to near the ground, he felt his shoulder muscles tense beneath his shoulder blades. Closing his eyes, he tensed his arms and felt his skin slit open and the smooth texture of black feathers come jutting out behind him. He now hung there in the air, suspended by the pair of wings he had just called forth from his shoulders. He flapped them twice then set down onto the ground and withdrew them back beneath his black and gold dragon skin armor shirt. The black chains that crossed his black dragon hide shorts clanked together; reminding him of the restraints they embodied to keep him in control of his powers as he walked back around the outside wall and in through the front gate of the city.
The Silent City, despite its name, had become anything but silent ever since the Dark Kaizer had fallen. Townspeople bustled and scurried all around the vast and expansive market place as the young man with the aqua hair cast a smile to all of them. The shouts of vender’s calling to each passer by echoed amongst his thoughts and the many sweet scents of cinnamon and lavender from the herbal stalls drifted through his nostrils. Walking past a fruit stall, the vendor there gave the youth a wave and tossed him a fresh green apple.
"Good Mornin’ to ya Sheikaris! How ya be this fine winter’s day?" The youth, Sheikaris, tipped the apple to the vender in thanks and took a bite. The crisp crunch it made and the sweet yet tangy juice caused an even bigger smile to cross Sheikaris’ face.
"Doing quite well my good sir, as well as I hope you are doing what with such fresh apples for sale." The vender beamed with pride from Sheikaris’ praise and let his voice ring out even more as Sheikaris continued on down through the market, munching the apple along the way till he came to a large house that seemed to emanate with the most positive aura one could imagine. He smiled contently as he felt the aura around his new home. "Ah, home sweet home," he sighed. Yet a sudden shift in the aura gave him a start when he heard familiar cursing coming from within the house. "Right . . . Home sweet home . . ." he quickly opened the door to check on the shouting when a frying pan collided straight with his forehead resonating with a dull thud and fierce shouting struck his ears.
"Damn it Valterog! I told you to let me handle the cooking today!" a young man in a suit of radiant silver armor was yelling at a man in dark indigo, almost blackish colored armor. The man in the dark armor merely scoffed at the man in silver.
"You know I would never trust anything made by you, you silver wyvern!" This last word caused the man in silver to draw the sword that hung in the sheath at his side. The silver blade of the three foot long sword slid out effortlessly with a slight scraping sound of the silver on the sheath as the man in silver held it in his left hand at arms length from the face of the man in the dark armor. Just as it seemed the worst was going to happen, the sword went flying into the rafters of the house and both men were held up by the capes of their armor.
"Can I not leave you two alone for two measly hours to get some peace for myself?" Sheikaris’ left eye began to change colors to match the gold and violet dragon’s eye that swirled behind his eye-path. "I know you two are conflicting personalities but we are all on the same side here!" Sheikaris roughly tossed them down as he put a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "Sometimes I wonder what the First Twilight Dragon had to put up with when it came to the Salvation and Oblivion Dragons." Extending a hand out, he leaned over and helped up the man in silver armor. "And really Vatier, I never thought the Wyvern comment would get to you of all people!" Sheikaris let out a small chuckle as Vatier crossed his arms and sighed"
"Here I was thinking you were on my side too Sheikaris . . . Some friend you are." The man in the dark indigo armor, Valterog, let out a deep laugh as he got up and brushed himself off.
"Ah, now this is entertainment!" Both Vatier and Sheikaris shot him glares which made him smile weakly in reproach. "What? It’s funny . . ." Sheikaris let out a short sigh as Vatier leapt up and pulled his sword out of the rafters then gently sheathed it at his side once more. Looking about the house he saw the kitchen had been turned into a war zone from the earlier quarrel and shrugged his shoulders. Vatier gave another sigh as he scratched his head in thought. Turning to the other two he simply shrugged.
"Who’s up for eating out?"
* * *
The chefs at the local eatery gave shouts of greeting as the three warriors entered through the red curtain over the entrance. They had barely taken their seats when three bowls of steaming beef stew accompanied by three large loaves of bred and mugs of ale were slid in front of them by a very flustered and excited waitress. The smell of the steamed carrots and potatoes amongst the savory meat caused them all to drool profusely. The three men gave each other smiles as they put their hands together.
"Let’s eat!" The three dug right into the bowls of stew and bit great hunks of the bread between downing their ales. After a passing of several minutes the three youths sat back and set their empty bowls on top of each other. They all let out content sighs as they each reached for the money sachets at their sides to pay for their meals. Before they could put a coin on the table though, a shriek of terror was heard coming from the northern gates of the city. Instinctively the three leapt up and raced to the gates to see what the cause for alarm was. A mass crowd of people were fleeing from something that had somehow gotten past the outer walls. The three ran swiftly passed the massing people to the inner city gates and in a feat of inhuman skill, ran straight up the side of the wall to the inner ramparts.
"What could have gotten into the inner boundary area?" Vatier stood glaring out over the barren and parched battle field before them. Vatier scanned the wasteland as Sheikaris paced the length of the wall to see if the intruder was farther down the ranks.
"Over here! I see movement near the southern parapet ridge!" Valterog’s steel laced voice echoed as Vatier raced over to see for himself with Sheikaris not far behind. There it was . . . the thing that had managed to get in some how. Yet this intruder didn’t seem to move in the way an aggressor would move. It was almost as if it had been maimed or injured and was somehow lost. Sheikaris was the first to see it, his right eye glowing beneath his eye patch to see the truth. It was a man, fairly stocky and nearing his late thirties.
"Vatier . . . Open the gates . . ." Sheikaris’ voice hit a deep and drastic tone. Vatier turned with a perplexed gaze.
"Sheikaris, we don’t have any idea what that . . ." Sheikaris glared at him and repeated the order.
"Open the gate . . . Now!" Vatier stumbled back and nearly toppled over the edge. Valterog was moved aside as Vatier ran past and jumped back down the wall to the dirt streets below. A guard in steel armor jogged up to him with a spear and shield at the ready.
"Master Vatier, what has happened?"
"Open the gate, now," was Vatier’s only reply as the forms of Valterog and Sheikaris landed next to him. The large oak doors creaked to life and slowly swung open. Sheikaris however wasn’t very patient and ran out the small crevice to get to the man. Valterog and Vatier both exchanged looks of confusion as they jogged out and after their friend to see what the rush was about. Hurrying around the curved surface of the inner wall the two other knights saw Sheikaris carrying what looked to be a horrible pile of torn flesh. Yet upon a closer look they saw that it was indeed a man, but horribly torn and bitten to the point he was unrecognizable as a living human.
"Get him to the healer’s house quickly! He is still alive so we might be able to find out what did this atrocity to him!" Sheikaris handed the deformed man off to the waiting arms of the people who were gathered around and watched as they quickly sped him off to the city healer. Valterog stepped up beside Sheikaris and gave him a dead set gaze of agitation.
"What in all of Oblivion could have done such a thing to that man?" Vatier rubbed his chin in thought as they all felt a sudden blast of frigid winter wind from the north. Something was on its way there . . . But the question was . . . what was it?
* * *
The Healer stepped out from behind the white cotton curtain leading to the severely wounded man and let out a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hands in a thick leather apron which by now had numerous blood stains on them from not just this emergency but many others before now. The sigh was not a good sign to the three warriors that stood anxiously awaiting the chance to speak with the nearly dead victim.
"How he made it this far is a wonder in itself," the Healer began," But even with my tools and my shaman gifts I couldn’t stop the lesions and the severe hemorrhaging." Sheikaris felt the whole room grow heavier as the mood changed swiftly. "However, he still has some time left before he does pass on to the Nether Realm. I would use this time with urgency." The Healer walked past them and placed a hand on Sheikaris’ shoulder in regret as he continued on his way. After a passing of several moments, they all quietly entered through the curtain and saw the inhuman looking man lying before them. The bandages that had been used in an attempt to stop the bleeding were now a red-brown and a very putrid shade of pale green. Vatier covered his mouth as he felt the miasmic aura emanating from the corpse like body.
"What kind of creature could do this to a human and still let him live?" None of them could answer the question as they hung their heads in dismay. The cough that followed racked the silence of the room and caused all of the youths to jump. The man on the bed began to cough profusely as his bandaged mouth struggled to let out a strained and muffled cry of pain.
"THE FIENDS!!! THE FIENDS!!!" The man thrashed and wailed causing the bandages to peel and pull the bits of flesh still left on his bones. Vatier rushed over to the bed and helped keep the man pinned to the bed as his legs began to buckle and small tearing noises be heard near the joints. Valterog saw this and pulled a serrated short sword with a black and red blade out of a small black vortex near his left hand. The sword slid out of the black hole and fit neatly into his hand, a dragon wing like handle wrapping safely around his fingers. The sword flashed a trail of red light as it pierced the center of the man’s forehead and silenced him abruptly. Vatier stood with wide eyes and Sheikaris had his mouth agape. In a flash of gold and black, Sheikaris soon had Valterog up against the wall by his throat.
"What the fuck did you just do Valterog!? He was our only link to what it was that did this to him!" Valterog struggled against the death grip as he felt Sheikaris’ hand begin to change into its dragon form and the claws begin to dig into his neck.
"I gave him a mercy killing . . . *gasp* . . . He already told us what did it . . . and I have a bad feeling of who it was that made the creatures who did . . ." Vatier quickly intervened and pried Sheikaris off of Valterog. Valterog slid down the wall and rubbed his neck as the holes where the claws had been slid shut and healed over in the blink of an eye. Glaring at Sheikaris, Vatier dug his own silver claws into Sheikaris’ indigo blue scales on his forearm.
"Valterog is right. He said it was fiends . . ." Sheikaris snatched his arm out of Vatier’s vicious grip and snapped at them both.
"It doesn’t matter what it is! I don’t want to see any more innocence being killed at the expense of others!" Sheikaris turned and roughly thrust aside the curtain to the room and slammed the door to the Healer’s house as he headed off once again to sit atop the towers of the city. Vatier gave Valterog a sad shake of his head and even the dark Valterog looked down in sheepishness as the blood of the dead man broke the silence of the room, dripping onto the cobble stoned floor.
Sheikaris sat on the outer parapets of the far outside wall over looking the seemingly never-ending plains of snow. Letting out sigh after sigh of despair, his breath left wraith like wisps in the air as they trailed off into the cloudy afternoon sky. As his thoughts seemed poised to take his mind off into a state of meditation, a small croon came into his ears. Turning he saw his small sapphire dragon, Zenith, perching on his right shoulder to nuzzle Sheikaris on the cheek in worry. A small voice, similar to Sheikaris’ yet with a wispier tone floated into Sheikaris’ mind.
<What is troubling you my partner? I sense horrible animosity and sadness within your heart this winter’s day.> Sheikaris scratched the little dragon under the muzzle of his chin and let out another breath into the cold air.
"I just don’t understand why everyone has to die Zenith. I know I should be able to cope with all of the death that I have seen over this past century, but I haven’t been able to let go of the pain it leaves in my soul." Zenith gave another sad nudge on his partner’s cheek and flapped his sapphire wings to stretch them out from the cold wind.
<I know it is always hard to see the ones you love and even total strangers die and leave us behind. Yet somehow we know we will see them again. This is the Law of the Seven Realms, remember?> Sheikaris raised his head at this. Zenith was right, all souls of the dead went to the Nether Realm, and from there they either remained in the Nether Realm or went on to the Realm of Oblivion or the Realm Sereaxephon. Sheikaris gave his dragon a light pat on his head crest and stood up on the parapet he had been sitting on.
"You know . . . Your right. Even in death our friends and the lives of everyone never really leave us. . ." A sudden quake of the ground surged through his feet, causing him to nearly fall off of the 150 foot high wall. Gazing out with wide eyes to the Khal-Matak Mountain range in the distant north, his eyes could faintly see trails of smoke rising from the base of the range. Allowing his true dragon eyes to come forth, his eyes shifted to the familiar slit draconic pupils and zoomed into the full distance of the smoke trails. Sheikaris stood dumb struck as he felt his hands shake fervently from fright. Within his line of sight now marched a horde of tens of thousands of undead fiends, reavers, wraiths and liches. In the sky above this horde flew hundreds of gargoyles and wailing banshees, some still holding bodies of defenseless travelers that had been in their way as they continued the march closer to the outer walls of the Silent City. Letting his eyes return to the normal viewing, he calculated that the horde was still at least a day’s journey away, but at the speed they were marching . . . He had no time to think of the situation, all he needed to know was that this city . . . his city, his home was in danger.
<My partner>, the little dragon asked as Sheikaris leapt up and spread his black wings once again to fly the distance back to the inner walls and the town behind them, <what plan is it that you have in your mind? How do you plan to face this threat?> Sheikaris gave a small smirk despite his overwhelming fear for the city.
"What else? Send them all back to Oblivion where they belong!" He flapped his wings once more and shot off back into the center of the city to inform Valterog and Vatier of the sudden change of the situation.
* * *
"How many did you say were in this horde!?" Valterog leaned forward and spilled the mug of ale he had been drinking to calm himself from the earlier incident. Sheikaris nodded grimly as his dragon yawned sleepily in the rafters above them. Vatier sat with his arms crossed, tapping the metal fingers of his gauntlets on the shoulders of his armor. Valterog relaxed slightly, allowing himself to sit back down in his chair and contemplate a plan of action with the others. After a moment of silence amongst them, Vatier spoke up.
"This causes a large dilemma for us. This would make a horde of, from what Sheikaris has informed us of . . . At the most 250,000 of the reavers, wraiths and fiends, plus the possibility of 50,000 gargoyles and banshees." Sheikaris nodded.
"Yes. The problem is . . . Zenna, Lilliea and Valatarna are off with Gez and the other Elemental Guardians in Endaria. After all, we have allies there that need help as well." Vatier agreed, but still had a look of discontent on his face.
"So then where does that leave us?" Valterog gave them both hard glances, and downed his mug of ale. With a loud thud he slammed the mug onto the wooden table and leaned forward.
"We fight them of course, plain and simple. You said 300,000 right? That makes it 100,000 a piece for each of us. Divide and conquer as the saying goes." The two other swordsmen stared at their friend in shock. Valterog gave a shrug in response. "Well, unless you two have any better ideas this is our only option. We either stand and fight . . . or let them swarm the walls and inevitably get in and have a buffet on all of us." Sheikaris and Vatier looked at each other with worried looks, then nodded. Valterog gave an evil grin as he set his right hand out, palm down. "Oblivion," he said strongly. Vatier followed and out his hand over Valterog’s.
"Salvation," he continued with a wide grin on his face as well. Sheikaris finished, resting his hand on top of Vatier’s.
"Twilight." All in unison they finished their pact.
"Be decree of we three dragons of Oblivion, Salvation and Twilight, we vow upon our lives as dragons of ancient lore to serve and protect the lives and souls of those in this fair Silent City until the last piece of the horde that threatens falls before our blades!" A brilliant flash illuminated the room as the energy of the three merged as one for a split second, then subsided as the three exited their home to rally the citizens to a safe place until the battle was over.
"Hurry now! Everyone follow Sheikaris and Valterog down to the underground where you will be safe!" Vatier was rushing people down a long flight of stairs hidden beneath the center of the city. These stairs were located beneath a large golden statue showing Sheikaris holding two large dragon wing katanas fighting against a man with a kingly looking helm and flowing robes with a large barbed saber. The statue had been pushed back by the three to reveal the hidden passage way that led about two miles down beneath the city surface. Sheikaris and Valterog waited at the bottom, showing the townsfolk the way to the safe room where large provisions of food, water and weapons were kept should the worst happen. As Valterog was showing the last of the men in, a group of small children stood before him with tears in their eyes. He looked down at them, his own piercing red eyes locking on theirs.
"Mr. Dragon . . . Are we really gonna be safe down here?" Vatier had just finished following the last of the people down the stairs and watched as Valterog knelt down and rested a hand on the child’s shoulder.
"My child, I made a vow to protect all of you, especially you children . . . I will not be breaking my promise to any of you." The children all gave a quick shout and rushed Valterog and tackled him to the ground with hugs. Vatier let out a burst of laughter.
"Hey Sheikaris! It seems the mighty Oblivion Dragon of Darkness has fallen in battle even before it has begun!" Valterog glared viciously at Vatier from beneath the pile of over zealous children who dispersed quickly when called by their parents. After making sure all the locks and safety seals were in place, Sheikaris closed the door and had the strongest men bolt the door from inside. With one look back at the large door imbued with runes and special protective symbols, the three swordsmen walked back up the stairs to the surface and slid the golden statue back over the entrance. Whether this would be the last time they did this, even they were not sure. With heavy hearts, they walked stoically towards the northern gates and stood before them with eyes drawn in hard glares of malice for the aggressors that were fast approaching their home.
"Hey Vatier," Valterog began, "About the children back there . . ." Vatier stopped him with an outstretched finger as his left hand drew forth his silver dragon wing long sword.
"Even those of Oblivion have some heart left within them." Valterog stood a bit surprised, but gave a true smile to his ally as he reached behind him and drew out from the same black swirling vortexes his serrated dragon short sword and a ferocious looking barbed dragon rapier, with much the same color and design as the short sword. Sheikaris stood in the middle of them and gave one last sigh as he held his hands outstretched before him. Closing his eyes, he summoned two five foot shafts of black fire in front of his hands. Closing his hands around each shaft, he caused a large golden hilted dragon wing katana to appear in his right hand and a shadow version of his katana in the left. The blades of each were uniquely colored, the shadow katana being of a dark indigo and amethyst blade. The golden hilted katana looked as though it was made entirely of a teal sapphire carved into a wicked blade.
"Shall we get ready then my friends?" Sheikaris gave a look to each of his friends as Vatier clenched his right arm to call out a shingled clawed arm gauntlet to signal he was ready. Valterog rested his rapier on his shoulder and spun his short sword in small circles with a smile of evident malevolence. Sheikaris gave his own smile of excitement at the coming battle and faced the gates once again as he looked up to the sky. "Then let’s show our guests how the dragons of ancient lore fight their battles!" The three dragon swordsmen spread forth their wings of black feathers and flew up the wall to loft in the sky over looking the city. Looking down on the city they spun upward even more and flew off to the outer wall to await what wickedness was coming their way to take the happiness they had strived so long to obtain.
* * *
The night came swift and sudden as the winter wind whipped through the air and brought with it a fresh new snow fall starting to cause a flurry in the air around the city. Off in the distance to the north, black smoke could be seen swirling amongst the white snowfall as the undead horde of the fallen marched ever closer to the now truly silent Silent City. Up on the ramparts, hidden in the shadows of the towers, the three dragons waited. Vatier was rapped in his red crusader’s cape on the eastern side of the wall, watching the flying wave of gargoyles and banshees who’s shrieks and screeches drowned out the blizzard around him. To the western side of the wall Valterog crouched and marked the left half of the ground horde as his target for the battle.
Directly in the middle of the wall, his black wings drawn around him, Sheikaris eyed his right side of the horde. The horde drew closer, right up to within a hundred yards of the outer wall, when it ceased its march. Black banners baring the grey insignia of a serpent entwined around a dragon’s skull flew fervently in the wind as torches of bright yet strange grey fire waved back and forth from the horde. Mounted atop a repulsive looking undead horse was a tall and lanky figure who wore a similar dragon skull helm much like the one emblazoned on the banners. His armor looked as though he had slid three sets of skeletons over his body to which even Valterog gave a slight shudder of disgust. The mounted rider rode forward and stopped mere feet from the wall and called up the wall.
"Dragon’s of Ancient Lore . . . I have come as decreed seven millennia ago by the first of your kind! Come to destroy you upon the eve of the day you celebrate as the Aura of Lights. My gray candle has burned out, relieving me of my dreadful prison within my stone coffin." Sheikaris unfolded his wings and withdrew them back beneath his shoulders as Vatier and Valterog walked up to stand beside him.
"What reason do you have to attack this city then, if all you wish to do is kill us as you seem to think is your rightful duty?" Sheikaris called down with a hateful tone. The figure on the mount removed his helm and revealed a half corroded face with flesh peeling from the left side of his face and straggly tendrils that looked to be hair trailing to his neck.
"I am the Third Master General of the Serpent’s Army, Navatul. I am sworn by my master, the Serpent of the Ragnarok, to slay the three of darkness who would stand to oppose his commands." Navatul replaced the helm upon his head and reined up on his skeletal steed. "Which by his will I shall now bring this city to its feeble knees!" Waving a hand Navatul commanded the horde to advance, sending a shriek amongst the banshees who were the first to approach the wall. Vatier slid his sword out from beneath his cape and lunged out into the air, spreading his wings as he went. His sword beginning to glow, he swung it horizontally and let out his cry of battle.
"Sonic Psyphen!" Twelve other blades of glowing silver arced out from the main sword and flew at the screaming creatures. The screaming was cut short, quite literally, as the blades of silver ripped them asunder and turned ten of the gargoyles to ashes. Valterog saw his moment as the horde began to charge full on up to the walls of the city. He leapt over the wall, not bothering to spread his wings, but instead ran down the wall and held his swords out behind him as the ground neared him. Just as he was about to come face to face with the ground he pushed off from the wall and brought his swords forward in a point. Spinning almost as an arrow would from a bow, he shot forward gathering a swirling wave of dark energy around him as he spiraled through thirty of the skeletal lancers.
"Shadow Lancet!" Sheikaris watched as he saw his friends begin to cut through the horde of nightmares. Seeing that it was now time for him to join the fray, he leapt straight out into the air, his his katanas held out in his hands as he spun backwards in a falling motion. A he spun, black chains began to drop out from beneath his golden dragon scale trench coat and extend out to attach to the ends of the weapons as though they were being controlled by an unseen force. As the ground raced up to catch him, Sheikaris spun back and slashed down to the ground with both weapons. The tips of the weapons dug into the ground and teal, almost ice blue energy began to spark from them as he let go of the weapons and clasped the chains tightly.
"Rassna Tiel!" Veins of ice shot from his hands and coiled down through the chains to the blades of the weapons. The energy bounced through the blades and out through the ground where it sent cracks all through the snow covered surface, with towers of ice spears jutting up to impale any of the horde that were near by. Hefting the two weapons out of the snow covered field by the chains, Sheikaris began to rush and spin the chains out in wide arcs as one by one he cleaved the undead soldiers and infantry at the middle of their misshapen bodies. He spared a glance around the battle field to find Valterog swiftly darting from one foe to the next with such a lithe precision it would have rivaled Death himself. Valterog danced across the snow like a shadow in candle light, his blades leaving red trails of blood from his foes all across the snow.
Vatier in the meantime had been having the easiest run of the three, seeing as he could control sonic pulses and sound itself. Whenever a banshee let loose a shriek, he simply bent the vibration and sent it back at them to send them careening to the ground below. His sword was not yet stained with blood, for he was able to keep the creatures at bay with the multi-blade arcs he was casting off of his sword. Sheikaris gave a quick smile to himself for seeing how his old friend had become such a grand swordsman, but let it slip as he saw an undead axe man thrust a poleaxe his direction. Quickly wrapping his chains around the poleaxe he ripped the weapons from the attacker and sent his golden katana through the chest of the creature. It was in that moment that Sheikaris sensed something was wrong and turned to the outer gates. A large battering ram was pounding away at the city gates and was ready to break through any moment.
"Valterog! Vatier! To the inner ring now!" Sheikaris thrust out his wings and launched himself into the sky and raced off to await the horde within the barren inner ring outside the inner walls of the city. Valterog cut down one last wraith then followed Sheikaris over the wall, with Vatier not to far behind. They hadn’t even touched down for a few seconds when the door of the outer wall blew apart and flung them all to the middle of the barren snow covered landscape. The horde rushed in, now in bloodlust induced frenzy. They swung and slashed at everything that moved, even each other as the three warriors backpedaled to the wall, deflecting the horde in desperation. Navatul rode in the middle of the horde, vile laughter echoing from beneath his helm.
"You impudent dragon whelps! My horde is from every great army that ever stood against the Serpent in his campaign thousands of years before your own futile attempt! There is no hope for any of you to escape from this alive!" The three warriors feared this evil creature was right, seeing as they had now been back up all the way through to the inner walls. Before they were completely over run they ran up the wall and over to the inside of the city, where they could already see the door beginning to buckle from the force of the battering ram. Valterog was cursing profusely as he felt blood trailing from cuts on his face that were taking longer then usual to heal.
"Damn it to the lowest pit in hell! We can’t get through to that bastard! This horde of his seems to never cease its attack!" Vatier spat some blood onto the dirt as he rotated his left arm at the shoulder, trying to ease the sore pain he felt there.
"We can’t take them on in close quarters anymore, yet none of our spells are strong enough to take them all out in one fell swoop! Our options are running out!" They had unconsciously been walking to the center of the city and soon found themselves at the bronze statue that covered the secret hiding place of all of its inhabitants. Sheikaris looked upon the statue of himself, and saw the vision of him slaying the Dark Kaizer once again in his mind. That day may have been thirty years ago, yet the people of this land still remembered that he had set them free from the fear of that horrible man and his attempts at taking the Serpent’s power as his own. Seeing the statue made him remember exactly how he had defeated the Dark Kaizer, which caused him to crack a small smile.
"We have one last option that we can try . . . But I will need you two to lend me a bit of your energy for me to be able to pull it off." Vatier and Valterog looked at him in perplextion as Sheikaris handed them each one of his black chains. "I will need you two to channel as much of your salvation and oblivion energies as you possibly can through these chains and into my body . . ." Valterog gave a grim faced look.
"How sure are you that this will work? We’ve never tried sharing energies before, and certainly not in as much of an amount as you are suggesting." Vatier shook his head.
"What other choice do we have?" He pointed with his free hand to the door that was starting to splinter from the blunt force exuded upon it. "This may be our last chance. We need to take it and save all of these people! Especially those children you promised Valterog!" This caused Valterog to freeze and he gave Vatier a hard look. Then, with a sigh he gave a weak smile.
"You’re never gonna let me hear the end of that are you?" Vatier gave a smile in return.
"Nope." Grasping hold of the chains, they both began to send silver and black energy coursing through them and into Sheikaris’ body.
Outside the inner gates, Navatul sat atop his steed with snide pleasure. He was about to end the existence of these wretched dragons for all eternity, and then this city would be his new kingdom. His Master would be most pleased with his efforts. He heard the creaking of the oak doors bend and buckle. Any moment now they would break, and then he would ride into the city and claim it for his . . .
"What was that!?" A sudden large burst of black and gold energy broke his train of thought as the doors burst open and the horde began to charge inside. Navatul hesitated as he saw where the energy had come from. Standing in the middle of the city were the three dragons, the one in silver and the one in black-indigo holding onto chains linked to . . .to . . . "THE TWILIGHT DRAGON OF DARKNESS?!" Sheikaris had changed his form from his human shape to a full on dragon human hybrid form. His body was covered in teal blue scales with claws on his hands and arched up on his feet. His wings had changed from feathers into teal blue dragon wings that were burning with a black, violet, and ice blue aura. Held out within his hands was a sparking ball of the same color energy as his aura which held a gold and black dragon’s eye swirling in the middle of the sphere. Casting a vicious glare with his dragon eyes, Sheikaris held the energy out in front of him as he summoned up the spell.
"Darkness beyond the flow of time, Light within the flow of life . . . Brought forth now through moral strife, gifted long and slumbered since, within the hour of decadence upon this eve of Aura’s Light . . . We shall crush those who stand for the Serpent’s ways with the power that we alone posses!" Navatul began to back his steed up in a flurry of fear and desperation, then turned around and glared at the dragon swordsmen. Raising a spear of bone into the air, he ordered the rest of his horde to charge and annihilate them. The three warriors looked at each other then back at the advancing horde.
"We send our prayers to thee, the dragons who came before us, so that our endeavor shall succeed . . . TWILIGHT"S ENDING!"
* * *
Down below the city surface, the townspeople heard the horrible sound of the energy blast rip across their city and shake the ground all around them. Then as soon as it began, it stopped and all went still. The children clung to their mothers as the men waited by the door. They all soon heard the struggled shifting of the bronze statue and the clanking of armor plating. The men, holding spears and swords at the ready, heard the locks begin to open from a secret release on the outside and saw the door open. The men raised their swords and the woman and children covered their eyes, when they heard the familiar croon of Zenith, Sheikaris’ dragon. Zenith flew out of the safe hold where he had been left to help protect the children and perched on the shoulder of his partner. Sheikaris was propped up on Vatier’s left shoulder as Valterog shoved the door open. All three of them looked ready to collapse, evident wounds shown through the damage taken on their armor. The children let out cries of joy and rushed to Valterog who let them tackle him to the ground. Vatier let out a struggled laugh as Sheikaris gave a weak smile to the townspeople.
"Come, return to your wonderful city. We have a holiday to celebrate this morning." The townsfolk cheered and eagerly helped the three weary swordsmen back up the stairs. As they all returned to the surface they gaze up into a lightly falling snow from beneath an overcast sky. The remains of the horde had been decimated by the spell that the three had called upon and the trail of the attack could be seen leaving an indented trail all the way out past the outer wall’s gate. Vatier shifted Sheikaris on his shoulder and patted him on the back.
"Well done my friend. I’d say the Ancient’s chose wisely when they gave you the power of the Twilight Dragon of Darkness." Valterog gave a slight cough as if to object, but retained a snide smile of agreement. This smile quickly faded as he was pelted by snowballs from the many children running around the now crowded streets. Valterog grew red faced, and then started throwing the snowballs back and forth with them.
"He may be from Oblivion, but as you said, he still has a heart. He just waits for the right time to show . . ." Sheikaris weakly spoke to Vatier. Vatier nodded.
"Yes . . . Much like you my friend, Much like you. You proved that your power over darkness can truly be used to help people." Sheikaris gave him a relieved smile as Valterog rejoined them and helped hold Sheikaris up on his other shoulder.
"Besides, Twilight Dragon or not, you always have Oblivion and Salvation at your side to help you when you need it." Valterog gave a grin of thanks as his red eyes seemed to soften for just that moment, then hardened over again. "But in the mean time . . . whose turn was it to cook tonight? And it better not be that wyvern’s turn again!" Before Sheikaris could stop them, Vatier and Valterog were once again bickering amongst their differences. Sheikaris merely shook his head as they all three walked back to their home.
"They are right," Sheikaris said to himself, "Regardless of if it is light or darkness I wield . . . I will always have my friends here to aid me when I need them." He nodded contently as they made their weary way home.
Wind whistled through the dank and moldy caverns of the Khal-Mahtak Mountains this cold winter night, sending a chill through the souls of the group of five mountain climbers trekking through the cave. None of them had ever been this far north, not since the fall of the Dark Kaizer some thirty years before. These mountains had always been said to be a vast and dangerous place even after the Second Dark Catalyst. Regardless, the five of them kept pushing forward through the dark and mist filled caverns. The head mountaineer held his torch up high as the small troop of climbers came into a large opening within the mountain. Setting down their leather packs to rest, four of the climbers, the mountaineer included, proceeded to bed down for the night. Meanwhile, the youngest off the group decided to go off on his own and see what this quite large opening in the mountain had to offer up in return for his curiosity.
"Hey rookie! Don’t you be wandering too far off now, ya’ hear?" the gruff voice of the mountaineer called after him. The rookie disregarded the warning as he felt his way along the rough rock walls to find another passage farther down the side. Strangely enough the young man could see a dim gray light farther down inside the new crevice. Looking back over his shoulder, he debated returning and asking his companions to accompany him. Yet he felt drawn to that new light and began to hypnotically walk towards it. As he neared the light, he could suddenly smell a faint stench of molten and rotted flesh.
Feeling his stomach begin to churn from the smell the young man willed himself to try and turn back but was still caught in the glow of the haunting light. As the source of the light finally came into focus, a thick purple fog of poisonous miasma circled the room. Glancing in the direction of the light, he saw that it came from a gray flamed candle that sat atop the front of a very lavish and richly inscribed coffin of stone. The young man leaned down closer to read the ancient text that was carved into the stone, his mouth moving silently as the candle next too him began to grow ever fainter with each word. Once the last word was read his lips ceased and the candle went out, but not before a skeletal hand with twisted gray skin exploded from the coffin and grasped the youth around the throat . . . .
* * *
The violet and gold banners flew in the bright noon sun from the watch towers surrounding the outer wall of the Silent city as a young man with aqua hair sat atop the high most towers looking out across the vast field surrounding the city. He was a tall youth, roughly nearing his nineteenth, possibly twentieth birthday, with a slender yet well toned frame. His mid shoulder length hair, tied back in a pony tail, blew behind him from the early winter wind that was beginning to permeate across the country. The wind whistled through the inner ring of the inner walls, almost like a small crying animal, and kicked up the snow drifts on the barren earth. This inner ring between the outer and inner walls was completely void of any prairie creature or plant form. It was a ring of death around the inner walls of the city used to trap and dismiss of unwanted visitors.
Hearing this mild cry from the wind caused a shiver to coil down his spine, but the smell of the wind helped reclaim his peace. He inhaled the sweet smell of the fresh day, a scent of new fallen snow from the night before as the sun shown bright across the outer and inner fields. Thinking about the smell made him long for his home of Kori-Village farther to the north, but knew his place was here in this city for the time being.
Stretching his arms up and over behind his head he stood and took a last second gaze out over the field as he casually stepped off of the top of the 300 foot tower. Falling straight down he felt the wind race past him as the cool sting of it caused his left eye to water slightly. The other, hidden behind a black eye-patch with an amethyst crystal over the center to allow his eye to see, glinted with swirled gold and violet energy as it saw the ground coming up faster. As he began to near the ground, he felt his shoulder muscles tense beneath his shoulder blades. Closing his eyes, he tensed his arms and felt his skin slit open and the smooth texture of black feathers come jutting out behind him. He now hung there in the air, suspended by the pair of wings he had just called forth from his shoulders. He flapped them twice then set down onto the ground and withdrew them back beneath his black and gold dragon skin armor shirt. The black chains that crossed his black dragon hide shorts clanked together; reminding him of the restraints they embodied to keep him in control of his powers as he walked back around the outside wall and in through the front gate of the city.
The Silent City, despite its name, had become anything but silent ever since the Dark Kaizer had fallen. Townspeople bustled and scurried all around the vast and expansive market place as the young man with the aqua hair cast a smile to all of them. The shouts of vender’s calling to each passer by echoed amongst his thoughts and the many sweet scents of cinnamon and lavender from the herbal stalls drifted through his nostrils. Walking past a fruit stall, the vendor there gave the youth a wave and tossed him a fresh green apple.
"Good Mornin’ to ya Sheikaris! How ya be this fine winter’s day?" The youth, Sheikaris, tipped the apple to the vender in thanks and took a bite. The crisp crunch it made and the sweet yet tangy juice caused an even bigger smile to cross Sheikaris’ face.
"Doing quite well my good sir, as well as I hope you are doing what with such fresh apples for sale." The vender beamed with pride from Sheikaris’ praise and let his voice ring out even more as Sheikaris continued on down through the market, munching the apple along the way till he came to a large house that seemed to emanate with the most positive aura one could imagine. He smiled contently as he felt the aura around his new home. "Ah, home sweet home," he sighed. Yet a sudden shift in the aura gave him a start when he heard familiar cursing coming from within the house. "Right . . . Home sweet home . . ." he quickly opened the door to check on the shouting when a frying pan collided straight with his forehead resonating with a dull thud and fierce shouting struck his ears.
"Damn it Valterog! I told you to let me handle the cooking today!" a young man in a suit of radiant silver armor was yelling at a man in dark indigo, almost blackish colored armor. The man in the dark armor merely scoffed at the man in silver.
"You know I would never trust anything made by you, you silver wyvern!" This last word caused the man in silver to draw the sword that hung in the sheath at his side. The silver blade of the three foot long sword slid out effortlessly with a slight scraping sound of the silver on the sheath as the man in silver held it in his left hand at arms length from the face of the man in the dark armor. Just as it seemed the worst was going to happen, the sword went flying into the rafters of the house and both men were held up by the capes of their armor.
"Can I not leave you two alone for two measly hours to get some peace for myself?" Sheikaris’ left eye began to change colors to match the gold and violet dragon’s eye that swirled behind his eye-path. "I know you two are conflicting personalities but we are all on the same side here!" Sheikaris roughly tossed them down as he put a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "Sometimes I wonder what the First Twilight Dragon had to put up with when it came to the Salvation and Oblivion Dragons." Extending a hand out, he leaned over and helped up the man in silver armor. "And really Vatier, I never thought the Wyvern comment would get to you of all people!" Sheikaris let out a small chuckle as Vatier crossed his arms and sighed"
"Here I was thinking you were on my side too Sheikaris . . . Some friend you are." The man in the dark indigo armor, Valterog, let out a deep laugh as he got up and brushed himself off.
"Ah, now this is entertainment!" Both Vatier and Sheikaris shot him glares which made him smile weakly in reproach. "What? It’s funny . . ." Sheikaris let out a short sigh as Vatier leapt up and pulled his sword out of the rafters then gently sheathed it at his side once more. Looking about the house he saw the kitchen had been turned into a war zone from the earlier quarrel and shrugged his shoulders. Vatier gave another sigh as he scratched his head in thought. Turning to the other two he simply shrugged.
"Who’s up for eating out?"
* * *
The chefs at the local eatery gave shouts of greeting as the three warriors entered through the red curtain over the entrance. They had barely taken their seats when three bowls of steaming beef stew accompanied by three large loaves of bred and mugs of ale were slid in front of them by a very flustered and excited waitress. The smell of the steamed carrots and potatoes amongst the savory meat caused them all to drool profusely. The three men gave each other smiles as they put their hands together.
"Let’s eat!" The three dug right into the bowls of stew and bit great hunks of the bread between downing their ales. After a passing of several minutes the three youths sat back and set their empty bowls on top of each other. They all let out content sighs as they each reached for the money sachets at their sides to pay for their meals. Before they could put a coin on the table though, a shriek of terror was heard coming from the northern gates of the city. Instinctively the three leapt up and raced to the gates to see what the cause for alarm was. A mass crowd of people were fleeing from something that had somehow gotten past the outer walls. The three ran swiftly passed the massing people to the inner city gates and in a feat of inhuman skill, ran straight up the side of the wall to the inner ramparts.
"What could have gotten into the inner boundary area?" Vatier stood glaring out over the barren and parched battle field before them. Vatier scanned the wasteland as Sheikaris paced the length of the wall to see if the intruder was farther down the ranks.
"Over here! I see movement near the southern parapet ridge!" Valterog’s steel laced voice echoed as Vatier raced over to see for himself with Sheikaris not far behind. There it was . . . the thing that had managed to get in some how. Yet this intruder didn’t seem to move in the way an aggressor would move. It was almost as if it had been maimed or injured and was somehow lost. Sheikaris was the first to see it, his right eye glowing beneath his eye patch to see the truth. It was a man, fairly stocky and nearing his late thirties.
"Vatier . . . Open the gates . . ." Sheikaris’ voice hit a deep and drastic tone. Vatier turned with a perplexed gaze.
"Sheikaris, we don’t have any idea what that . . ." Sheikaris glared at him and repeated the order.
"Open the gate . . . Now!" Vatier stumbled back and nearly toppled over the edge. Valterog was moved aside as Vatier ran past and jumped back down the wall to the dirt streets below. A guard in steel armor jogged up to him with a spear and shield at the ready.
"Master Vatier, what has happened?"
"Open the gate, now," was Vatier’s only reply as the forms of Valterog and Sheikaris landed next to him. The large oak doors creaked to life and slowly swung open. Sheikaris however wasn’t very patient and ran out the small crevice to get to the man. Valterog and Vatier both exchanged looks of confusion as they jogged out and after their friend to see what the rush was about. Hurrying around the curved surface of the inner wall the two other knights saw Sheikaris carrying what looked to be a horrible pile of torn flesh. Yet upon a closer look they saw that it was indeed a man, but horribly torn and bitten to the point he was unrecognizable as a living human.
"Get him to the healer’s house quickly! He is still alive so we might be able to find out what did this atrocity to him!" Sheikaris handed the deformed man off to the waiting arms of the people who were gathered around and watched as they quickly sped him off to the city healer. Valterog stepped up beside Sheikaris and gave him a dead set gaze of agitation.
"What in all of Oblivion could have done such a thing to that man?" Vatier rubbed his chin in thought as they all felt a sudden blast of frigid winter wind from the north. Something was on its way there . . . But the question was . . . what was it?
* * *
The Healer stepped out from behind the white cotton curtain leading to the severely wounded man and let out a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hands in a thick leather apron which by now had numerous blood stains on them from not just this emergency but many others before now. The sigh was not a good sign to the three warriors that stood anxiously awaiting the chance to speak with the nearly dead victim.
"How he made it this far is a wonder in itself," the Healer began," But even with my tools and my shaman gifts I couldn’t stop the lesions and the severe hemorrhaging." Sheikaris felt the whole room grow heavier as the mood changed swiftly. "However, he still has some time left before he does pass on to the Nether Realm. I would use this time with urgency." The Healer walked past them and placed a hand on Sheikaris’ shoulder in regret as he continued on his way. After a passing of several moments, they all quietly entered through the curtain and saw the inhuman looking man lying before them. The bandages that had been used in an attempt to stop the bleeding were now a red-brown and a very putrid shade of pale green. Vatier covered his mouth as he felt the miasmic aura emanating from the corpse like body.
"What kind of creature could do this to a human and still let him live?" None of them could answer the question as they hung their heads in dismay. The cough that followed racked the silence of the room and caused all of the youths to jump. The man on the bed began to cough profusely as his bandaged mouth struggled to let out a strained and muffled cry of pain.
"THE FIENDS!!! THE FIENDS!!!" The man thrashed and wailed causing the bandages to peel and pull the bits of flesh still left on his bones. Vatier rushed over to the bed and helped keep the man pinned to the bed as his legs began to buckle and small tearing noises be heard near the joints. Valterog saw this and pulled a serrated short sword with a black and red blade out of a small black vortex near his left hand. The sword slid out of the black hole and fit neatly into his hand, a dragon wing like handle wrapping safely around his fingers. The sword flashed a trail of red light as it pierced the center of the man’s forehead and silenced him abruptly. Vatier stood with wide eyes and Sheikaris had his mouth agape. In a flash of gold and black, Sheikaris soon had Valterog up against the wall by his throat.
"What the fuck did you just do Valterog!? He was our only link to what it was that did this to him!" Valterog struggled against the death grip as he felt Sheikaris’ hand begin to change into its dragon form and the claws begin to dig into his neck.
"I gave him a mercy killing . . . *gasp* . . . He already told us what did it . . . and I have a bad feeling of who it was that made the creatures who did . . ." Vatier quickly intervened and pried Sheikaris off of Valterog. Valterog slid down the wall and rubbed his neck as the holes where the claws had been slid shut and healed over in the blink of an eye. Glaring at Sheikaris, Vatier dug his own silver claws into Sheikaris’ indigo blue scales on his forearm.
"Valterog is right. He said it was fiends . . ." Sheikaris snatched his arm out of Vatier’s vicious grip and snapped at them both.
"It doesn’t matter what it is! I don’t want to see any more innocence being killed at the expense of others!" Sheikaris turned and roughly thrust aside the curtain to the room and slammed the door to the Healer’s house as he headed off once again to sit atop the towers of the city. Vatier gave Valterog a sad shake of his head and even the dark Valterog looked down in sheepishness as the blood of the dead man broke the silence of the room, dripping onto the cobble stoned floor.
Sheikaris sat on the outer parapets of the far outside wall over looking the seemingly never-ending plains of snow. Letting out sigh after sigh of despair, his breath left wraith like wisps in the air as they trailed off into the cloudy afternoon sky. As his thoughts seemed poised to take his mind off into a state of meditation, a small croon came into his ears. Turning he saw his small sapphire dragon, Zenith, perching on his right shoulder to nuzzle Sheikaris on the cheek in worry. A small voice, similar to Sheikaris’ yet with a wispier tone floated into Sheikaris’ mind.
<What is troubling you my partner? I sense horrible animosity and sadness within your heart this winter’s day.> Sheikaris scratched the little dragon under the muzzle of his chin and let out another breath into the cold air.
"I just don’t understand why everyone has to die Zenith. I know I should be able to cope with all of the death that I have seen over this past century, but I haven’t been able to let go of the pain it leaves in my soul." Zenith gave another sad nudge on his partner’s cheek and flapped his sapphire wings to stretch them out from the cold wind.
<I know it is always hard to see the ones you love and even total strangers die and leave us behind. Yet somehow we know we will see them again. This is the Law of the Seven Realms, remember?> Sheikaris raised his head at this. Zenith was right, all souls of the dead went to the Nether Realm, and from there they either remained in the Nether Realm or went on to the Realm of Oblivion or the Realm Sereaxephon. Sheikaris gave his dragon a light pat on his head crest and stood up on the parapet he had been sitting on.
"You know . . . Your right. Even in death our friends and the lives of everyone never really leave us. . ." A sudden quake of the ground surged through his feet, causing him to nearly fall off of the 150 foot high wall. Gazing out with wide eyes to the Khal-Matak Mountain range in the distant north, his eyes could faintly see trails of smoke rising from the base of the range. Allowing his true dragon eyes to come forth, his eyes shifted to the familiar slit draconic pupils and zoomed into the full distance of the smoke trails. Sheikaris stood dumb struck as he felt his hands shake fervently from fright. Within his line of sight now marched a horde of tens of thousands of undead fiends, reavers, wraiths and liches. In the sky above this horde flew hundreds of gargoyles and wailing banshees, some still holding bodies of defenseless travelers that had been in their way as they continued the march closer to the outer walls of the Silent City. Letting his eyes return to the normal viewing, he calculated that the horde was still at least a day’s journey away, but at the speed they were marching . . . He had no time to think of the situation, all he needed to know was that this city . . . his city, his home was in danger.
<My partner>, the little dragon asked as Sheikaris leapt up and spread his black wings once again to fly the distance back to the inner walls and the town behind them, <what plan is it that you have in your mind? How do you plan to face this threat?> Sheikaris gave a small smirk despite his overwhelming fear for the city.
"What else? Send them all back to Oblivion where they belong!" He flapped his wings once more and shot off back into the center of the city to inform Valterog and Vatier of the sudden change of the situation.
* * *
"How many did you say were in this horde!?" Valterog leaned forward and spilled the mug of ale he had been drinking to calm himself from the earlier incident. Sheikaris nodded grimly as his dragon yawned sleepily in the rafters above them. Vatier sat with his arms crossed, tapping the metal fingers of his gauntlets on the shoulders of his armor. Valterog relaxed slightly, allowing himself to sit back down in his chair and contemplate a plan of action with the others. After a moment of silence amongst them, Vatier spoke up.
"This causes a large dilemma for us. This would make a horde of, from what Sheikaris has informed us of . . . At the most 250,000 of the reavers, wraiths and fiends, plus the possibility of 50,000 gargoyles and banshees." Sheikaris nodded.
"Yes. The problem is . . . Zenna, Lilliea and Valatarna are off with Gez and the other Elemental Guardians in Endaria. After all, we have allies there that need help as well." Vatier agreed, but still had a look of discontent on his face.
"So then where does that leave us?" Valterog gave them both hard glances, and downed his mug of ale. With a loud thud he slammed the mug onto the wooden table and leaned forward.
"We fight them of course, plain and simple. You said 300,000 right? That makes it 100,000 a piece for each of us. Divide and conquer as the saying goes." The two other swordsmen stared at their friend in shock. Valterog gave a shrug in response. "Well, unless you two have any better ideas this is our only option. We either stand and fight . . . or let them swarm the walls and inevitably get in and have a buffet on all of us." Sheikaris and Vatier looked at each other with worried looks, then nodded. Valterog gave an evil grin as he set his right hand out, palm down. "Oblivion," he said strongly. Vatier followed and out his hand over Valterog’s.
"Salvation," he continued with a wide grin on his face as well. Sheikaris finished, resting his hand on top of Vatier’s.
"Twilight." All in unison they finished their pact.
"Be decree of we three dragons of Oblivion, Salvation and Twilight, we vow upon our lives as dragons of ancient lore to serve and protect the lives and souls of those in this fair Silent City until the last piece of the horde that threatens falls before our blades!" A brilliant flash illuminated the room as the energy of the three merged as one for a split second, then subsided as the three exited their home to rally the citizens to a safe place until the battle was over.
"Hurry now! Everyone follow Sheikaris and Valterog down to the underground where you will be safe!" Vatier was rushing people down a long flight of stairs hidden beneath the center of the city. These stairs were located beneath a large golden statue showing Sheikaris holding two large dragon wing katanas fighting against a man with a kingly looking helm and flowing robes with a large barbed saber. The statue had been pushed back by the three to reveal the hidden passage way that led about two miles down beneath the city surface. Sheikaris and Valterog waited at the bottom, showing the townsfolk the way to the safe room where large provisions of food, water and weapons were kept should the worst happen. As Valterog was showing the last of the men in, a group of small children stood before him with tears in their eyes. He looked down at them, his own piercing red eyes locking on theirs.
"Mr. Dragon . . . Are we really gonna be safe down here?" Vatier had just finished following the last of the people down the stairs and watched as Valterog knelt down and rested a hand on the child’s shoulder.
"My child, I made a vow to protect all of you, especially you children . . . I will not be breaking my promise to any of you." The children all gave a quick shout and rushed Valterog and tackled him to the ground with hugs. Vatier let out a burst of laughter.
"Hey Sheikaris! It seems the mighty Oblivion Dragon of Darkness has fallen in battle even before it has begun!" Valterog glared viciously at Vatier from beneath the pile of over zealous children who dispersed quickly when called by their parents. After making sure all the locks and safety seals were in place, Sheikaris closed the door and had the strongest men bolt the door from inside. With one look back at the large door imbued with runes and special protective symbols, the three swordsmen walked back up the stairs to the surface and slid the golden statue back over the entrance. Whether this would be the last time they did this, even they were not sure. With heavy hearts, they walked stoically towards the northern gates and stood before them with eyes drawn in hard glares of malice for the aggressors that were fast approaching their home.
"Hey Vatier," Valterog began, "About the children back there . . ." Vatier stopped him with an outstretched finger as his left hand drew forth his silver dragon wing long sword.
"Even those of Oblivion have some heart left within them." Valterog stood a bit surprised, but gave a true smile to his ally as he reached behind him and drew out from the same black swirling vortexes his serrated dragon short sword and a ferocious looking barbed dragon rapier, with much the same color and design as the short sword. Sheikaris stood in the middle of them and gave one last sigh as he held his hands outstretched before him. Closing his eyes, he summoned two five foot shafts of black fire in front of his hands. Closing his hands around each shaft, he caused a large golden hilted dragon wing katana to appear in his right hand and a shadow version of his katana in the left. The blades of each were uniquely colored, the shadow katana being of a dark indigo and amethyst blade. The golden hilted katana looked as though it was made entirely of a teal sapphire carved into a wicked blade.
"Shall we get ready then my friends?" Sheikaris gave a look to each of his friends as Vatier clenched his right arm to call out a shingled clawed arm gauntlet to signal he was ready. Valterog rested his rapier on his shoulder and spun his short sword in small circles with a smile of evident malevolence. Sheikaris gave his own smile of excitement at the coming battle and faced the gates once again as he looked up to the sky. "Then let’s show our guests how the dragons of ancient lore fight their battles!" The three dragon swordsmen spread forth their wings of black feathers and flew up the wall to loft in the sky over looking the city. Looking down on the city they spun upward even more and flew off to the outer wall to await what wickedness was coming their way to take the happiness they had strived so long to obtain.
* * *
The night came swift and sudden as the winter wind whipped through the air and brought with it a fresh new snow fall starting to cause a flurry in the air around the city. Off in the distance to the north, black smoke could be seen swirling amongst the white snowfall as the undead horde of the fallen marched ever closer to the now truly silent Silent City. Up on the ramparts, hidden in the shadows of the towers, the three dragons waited. Vatier was rapped in his red crusader’s cape on the eastern side of the wall, watching the flying wave of gargoyles and banshees who’s shrieks and screeches drowned out the blizzard around him. To the western side of the wall Valterog crouched and marked the left half of the ground horde as his target for the battle.
Directly in the middle of the wall, his black wings drawn around him, Sheikaris eyed his right side of the horde. The horde drew closer, right up to within a hundred yards of the outer wall, when it ceased its march. Black banners baring the grey insignia of a serpent entwined around a dragon’s skull flew fervently in the wind as torches of bright yet strange grey fire waved back and forth from the horde. Mounted atop a repulsive looking undead horse was a tall and lanky figure who wore a similar dragon skull helm much like the one emblazoned on the banners. His armor looked as though he had slid three sets of skeletons over his body to which even Valterog gave a slight shudder of disgust. The mounted rider rode forward and stopped mere feet from the wall and called up the wall.
"Dragon’s of Ancient Lore . . . I have come as decreed seven millennia ago by the first of your kind! Come to destroy you upon the eve of the day you celebrate as the Aura of Lights. My gray candle has burned out, relieving me of my dreadful prison within my stone coffin." Sheikaris unfolded his wings and withdrew them back beneath his shoulders as Vatier and Valterog walked up to stand beside him.
"What reason do you have to attack this city then, if all you wish to do is kill us as you seem to think is your rightful duty?" Sheikaris called down with a hateful tone. The figure on the mount removed his helm and revealed a half corroded face with flesh peeling from the left side of his face and straggly tendrils that looked to be hair trailing to his neck.
"I am the Third Master General of the Serpent’s Army, Navatul. I am sworn by my master, the Serpent of the Ragnarok, to slay the three of darkness who would stand to oppose his commands." Navatul replaced the helm upon his head and reined up on his skeletal steed. "Which by his will I shall now bring this city to its feeble knees!" Waving a hand Navatul commanded the horde to advance, sending a shriek amongst the banshees who were the first to approach the wall. Vatier slid his sword out from beneath his cape and lunged out into the air, spreading his wings as he went. His sword beginning to glow, he swung it horizontally and let out his cry of battle.
"Sonic Psyphen!" Twelve other blades of glowing silver arced out from the main sword and flew at the screaming creatures. The screaming was cut short, quite literally, as the blades of silver ripped them asunder and turned ten of the gargoyles to ashes. Valterog saw his moment as the horde began to charge full on up to the walls of the city. He leapt over the wall, not bothering to spread his wings, but instead ran down the wall and held his swords out behind him as the ground neared him. Just as he was about to come face to face with the ground he pushed off from the wall and brought his swords forward in a point. Spinning almost as an arrow would from a bow, he shot forward gathering a swirling wave of dark energy around him as he spiraled through thirty of the skeletal lancers.
"Shadow Lancet!" Sheikaris watched as he saw his friends begin to cut through the horde of nightmares. Seeing that it was now time for him to join the fray, he leapt straight out into the air, his his katanas held out in his hands as he spun backwards in a falling motion. A he spun, black chains began to drop out from beneath his golden dragon scale trench coat and extend out to attach to the ends of the weapons as though they were being controlled by an unseen force. As the ground raced up to catch him, Sheikaris spun back and slashed down to the ground with both weapons. The tips of the weapons dug into the ground and teal, almost ice blue energy began to spark from them as he let go of the weapons and clasped the chains tightly.
"Rassna Tiel!" Veins of ice shot from his hands and coiled down through the chains to the blades of the weapons. The energy bounced through the blades and out through the ground where it sent cracks all through the snow covered surface, with towers of ice spears jutting up to impale any of the horde that were near by. Hefting the two weapons out of the snow covered field by the chains, Sheikaris began to rush and spin the chains out in wide arcs as one by one he cleaved the undead soldiers and infantry at the middle of their misshapen bodies. He spared a glance around the battle field to find Valterog swiftly darting from one foe to the next with such a lithe precision it would have rivaled Death himself. Valterog danced across the snow like a shadow in candle light, his blades leaving red trails of blood from his foes all across the snow.
Vatier in the meantime had been having the easiest run of the three, seeing as he could control sonic pulses and sound itself. Whenever a banshee let loose a shriek, he simply bent the vibration and sent it back at them to send them careening to the ground below. His sword was not yet stained with blood, for he was able to keep the creatures at bay with the multi-blade arcs he was casting off of his sword. Sheikaris gave a quick smile to himself for seeing how his old friend had become such a grand swordsman, but let it slip as he saw an undead axe man thrust a poleaxe his direction. Quickly wrapping his chains around the poleaxe he ripped the weapons from the attacker and sent his golden katana through the chest of the creature. It was in that moment that Sheikaris sensed something was wrong and turned to the outer gates. A large battering ram was pounding away at the city gates and was ready to break through any moment.
"Valterog! Vatier! To the inner ring now!" Sheikaris thrust out his wings and launched himself into the sky and raced off to await the horde within the barren inner ring outside the inner walls of the city. Valterog cut down one last wraith then followed Sheikaris over the wall, with Vatier not to far behind. They hadn’t even touched down for a few seconds when the door of the outer wall blew apart and flung them all to the middle of the barren snow covered landscape. The horde rushed in, now in bloodlust induced frenzy. They swung and slashed at everything that moved, even each other as the three warriors backpedaled to the wall, deflecting the horde in desperation. Navatul rode in the middle of the horde, vile laughter echoing from beneath his helm.
"You impudent dragon whelps! My horde is from every great army that ever stood against the Serpent in his campaign thousands of years before your own futile attempt! There is no hope for any of you to escape from this alive!" The three warriors feared this evil creature was right, seeing as they had now been back up all the way through to the inner walls. Before they were completely over run they ran up the wall and over to the inside of the city, where they could already see the door beginning to buckle from the force of the battering ram. Valterog was cursing profusely as he felt blood trailing from cuts on his face that were taking longer then usual to heal.
"Damn it to the lowest pit in hell! We can’t get through to that bastard! This horde of his seems to never cease its attack!" Vatier spat some blood onto the dirt as he rotated his left arm at the shoulder, trying to ease the sore pain he felt there.
"We can’t take them on in close quarters anymore, yet none of our spells are strong enough to take them all out in one fell swoop! Our options are running out!" They had unconsciously been walking to the center of the city and soon found themselves at the bronze statue that covered the secret hiding place of all of its inhabitants. Sheikaris looked upon the statue of himself, and saw the vision of him slaying the Dark Kaizer once again in his mind. That day may have been thirty years ago, yet the people of this land still remembered that he had set them free from the fear of that horrible man and his attempts at taking the Serpent’s power as his own. Seeing the statue made him remember exactly how he had defeated the Dark Kaizer, which caused him to crack a small smile.
"We have one last option that we can try . . . But I will need you two to lend me a bit of your energy for me to be able to pull it off." Vatier and Valterog looked at him in perplextion as Sheikaris handed them each one of his black chains. "I will need you two to channel as much of your salvation and oblivion energies as you possibly can through these chains and into my body . . ." Valterog gave a grim faced look.
"How sure are you that this will work? We’ve never tried sharing energies before, and certainly not in as much of an amount as you are suggesting." Vatier shook his head.
"What other choice do we have?" He pointed with his free hand to the door that was starting to splinter from the blunt force exuded upon it. "This may be our last chance. We need to take it and save all of these people! Especially those children you promised Valterog!" This caused Valterog to freeze and he gave Vatier a hard look. Then, with a sigh he gave a weak smile.
"You’re never gonna let me hear the end of that are you?" Vatier gave a smile in return.
"Nope." Grasping hold of the chains, they both began to send silver and black energy coursing through them and into Sheikaris’ body.
Outside the inner gates, Navatul sat atop his steed with snide pleasure. He was about to end the existence of these wretched dragons for all eternity, and then this city would be his new kingdom. His Master would be most pleased with his efforts. He heard the creaking of the oak doors bend and buckle. Any moment now they would break, and then he would ride into the city and claim it for his . . .
"What was that!?" A sudden large burst of black and gold energy broke his train of thought as the doors burst open and the horde began to charge inside. Navatul hesitated as he saw where the energy had come from. Standing in the middle of the city were the three dragons, the one in silver and the one in black-indigo holding onto chains linked to . . .to . . . "THE TWILIGHT DRAGON OF DARKNESS?!" Sheikaris had changed his form from his human shape to a full on dragon human hybrid form. His body was covered in teal blue scales with claws on his hands and arched up on his feet. His wings had changed from feathers into teal blue dragon wings that were burning with a black, violet, and ice blue aura. Held out within his hands was a sparking ball of the same color energy as his aura which held a gold and black dragon’s eye swirling in the middle of the sphere. Casting a vicious glare with his dragon eyes, Sheikaris held the energy out in front of him as he summoned up the spell.
"Darkness beyond the flow of time, Light within the flow of life . . . Brought forth now through moral strife, gifted long and slumbered since, within the hour of decadence upon this eve of Aura’s Light . . . We shall crush those who stand for the Serpent’s ways with the power that we alone posses!" Navatul began to back his steed up in a flurry of fear and desperation, then turned around and glared at the dragon swordsmen. Raising a spear of bone into the air, he ordered the rest of his horde to charge and annihilate them. The three warriors looked at each other then back at the advancing horde.
"We send our prayers to thee, the dragons who came before us, so that our endeavor shall succeed . . . TWILIGHT"S ENDING!"
* * *
Down below the city surface, the townspeople heard the horrible sound of the energy blast rip across their city and shake the ground all around them. Then as soon as it began, it stopped and all went still. The children clung to their mothers as the men waited by the door. They all soon heard the struggled shifting of the bronze statue and the clanking of armor plating. The men, holding spears and swords at the ready, heard the locks begin to open from a secret release on the outside and saw the door open. The men raised their swords and the woman and children covered their eyes, when they heard the familiar croon of Zenith, Sheikaris’ dragon. Zenith flew out of the safe hold where he had been left to help protect the children and perched on the shoulder of his partner. Sheikaris was propped up on Vatier’s left shoulder as Valterog shoved the door open. All three of them looked ready to collapse, evident wounds shown through the damage taken on their armor. The children let out cries of joy and rushed to Valterog who let them tackle him to the ground. Vatier let out a struggled laugh as Sheikaris gave a weak smile to the townspeople.
"Come, return to your wonderful city. We have a holiday to celebrate this morning." The townsfolk cheered and eagerly helped the three weary swordsmen back up the stairs. As they all returned to the surface they gaze up into a lightly falling snow from beneath an overcast sky. The remains of the horde had been decimated by the spell that the three had called upon and the trail of the attack could be seen leaving an indented trail all the way out past the outer wall’s gate. Vatier shifted Sheikaris on his shoulder and patted him on the back.
"Well done my friend. I’d say the Ancient’s chose wisely when they gave you the power of the Twilight Dragon of Darkness." Valterog gave a slight cough as if to object, but retained a snide smile of agreement. This smile quickly faded as he was pelted by snowballs from the many children running around the now crowded streets. Valterog grew red faced, and then started throwing the snowballs back and forth with them.
"He may be from Oblivion, but as you said, he still has a heart. He just waits for the right time to show . . ." Sheikaris weakly spoke to Vatier. Vatier nodded.
"Yes . . . Much like you my friend, Much like you. You proved that your power over darkness can truly be used to help people." Sheikaris gave him a relieved smile as Valterog rejoined them and helped hold Sheikaris up on his other shoulder.
"Besides, Twilight Dragon or not, you always have Oblivion and Salvation at your side to help you when you need it." Valterog gave a grin of thanks as his red eyes seemed to soften for just that moment, then hardened over again. "But in the mean time . . . whose turn was it to cook tonight? And it better not be that wyvern’s turn again!" Before Sheikaris could stop them, Vatier and Valterog were once again bickering amongst their differences. Sheikaris merely shook his head as they all three walked back to their home.
"They are right," Sheikaris said to himself, "Regardless of if it is light or darkness I wield . . . I will always have my friends here to aid me when I need them." He nodded contently as they made their weary way home.
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