15. Drakonis
15
DRAKONIS
“ T he hunt will be different than others this year,” Konstantin said, sitting on his throne. Drakonis stood in light armor. Gold in his bracers and chest plate resembled scales, outlined in crimson with the wyvern symbol, embroidered in the cloth that fell at the edge of of his chest plate. Spiked golden pauldrons curved upward from shoulder to head were more for show than protection. Two swords were tied to his waist, his favorite weapon, a kilij sat above a shorter sword, its iron freshly polished and the curved blade recently sharpened. Rubies hung from his ears and his black hair was tied back in a braid with short thick strands falling to his cheekbones.
Kazimir was laughable. His armor was all for show. A black leather chest plate made from the magma eels of Lav was lined with orange and red jewels. A cloak of the deepest crimson, was embroidered with the same wyvern draped across his chest, chipped at his shoulder with a glittering brooch. He too had swords, but soft hands lacked the roughness of warriors. Were he not careful, predators would ensnare him by grabbing it, or Kazimir would injure himself drawing it. His short hair was slicked back with a grand golden band wrapping around his oval head; the same jewels from his chest plate etched in every inch.
Valen was sure to join him. Killing upon command and letting Kazimir pass it off as his.
“There are many creatures in the forest that will earn you points, the chimera and Yakut among them.” It was strange that the Yakut, a bull like figure of the golem, would leave Lav and be in the forest. Their armor was strong as steel and the rubies in its chest and eyes always made fine trinkets. “But I will be releasing a Lindworm. The one who can return with it will be automatic winner. I will be releasing the shadow orbs to keep everyone honest.”
Kazimir’s smile dropped. Drakonis held back a chuckle. The shadow orbs were ones of magick that reported updates of the hunt to the emperor.
“I expect one of you to win” Konstantin continued. “This is the beginning of our Dawning Festival meant to honor our ancestors, and I will not have the royal family outshined by someone of inferior blood.”
“Yes, father,” Drakonis and Kazimir said.
“And make sure one of you achieves victory by midday. The Kurdu will come out at night, and I do not need my people killed by flesh eating wolves.”
“Yes father.” Both sons said again.
Konstantin stood and walked past them, out of the throne room. Both were bowed at the waist, their hands clasping forearms behind their backs. They remained that way until their father was out of sight.
“Upon my victory, I should bestow the Lindworm to our pretty little oracle.” Kazimir said, a snakelike smile on his thin lips. “You’ve been hogging so much of her time that I have yet to dine with her.” Drakonis fought the growl that was in his throat. How could he forget Kazimir’s attempts? “I regret that I sent Valen,” Kazimir continued. Both he and Drakonis turned on their heel and headed towards The Garden. A nice term for a dangerous forrest that lay between the beautiful forrest of dracora blossoms and Lav.
“Had I been the one to greet her, she would have came with me.” Kazimir continued confidently. “I must continue to hone Valen’s charm.”
“I’m sure you had plenty of women to entertain you,” Drakonis said.
Some, perhaps, against their will.
“I tire of the boorish noblewomen here.” Kazimir added with a flick of his hand. “Something exotic fits my taste much better. I’m sure a woman of the gods knows plenty of way to please a man.”
Kazimir’s dark eyes boring into the side of his head. Drakonis continued to look ahead but internally his blood was boiling and his fists lighted, his claws nearly drawing blood.
If you do not defeat this bastard, I will kill you myself, his dragon hissed.
To kill me would be to kill yourself, Drakonis answered mentally.
Then I will just take over your body.
Impossible. Drakonis was just as angry as the dragon, but right now was not a time to act on emotion. Just like war, it showed weakness. And an enemy will easily expose a weakness. Speaking of weakness…
“I hope you have been training,” Drakonis answered. “With father letting out the shadows you won’t be able to count on Valen to make your kills for you.”
“You forget brother, Gavril trained both of us.” Kazimir’s smile faded as he spoke.
“Gavril trained me well. You seemed to prefer skirts more.”
Kazimir was godlike to the other dragons, but Drakonis knew him quite intimately. He was a fool running from something. He was intelligent and only fought with words. Not his body.
A boyish face with round fearful eyes and tears came to his mind. A day that their father decided to pit them against each other for the first time. He claimed the gods would choose his Heir before the celebratory festival. Their relationship had never been the same.
Guards opened the large double doors, bowing at the waist to the two of them. The sun was bright and white before his eyes adjusted. Crowds of women in their finest dresses wore painted faces and spoke behind elaborate fans on one side, while noblemen stood in their hunting finery on the other. Alastair stood among them laughing boisterously with hands on his hips. He was dressed just like in the wartime with navy and copper armor. Leather straps, black as his sclera, were strapped in an X over his chest peppered with sheaved knives. Navy cloth wrapped in a thick band around his waist with long swords tied to his waist. Knowing him, he had weapons hidden on his thighs and forearms as well.
Where was Clara if Alastair was here? His eyes roved everywhere but he could not see her. She said she would come.
“May the best prince win,” Kazimir said. He walked to the side of the warriors without a bow or a handshake. A blatant sign of disrespect to one of his own rank.
It matters not. Drakonis thought. All that mattered was that this time he would return victorious.
“How do ya do, ya highness!” Alastair said, clasping Drakonis’s shoulder. His sharp canines glinted in the sunlight. The surrounding soldiers stepped away to chat among themselves. Drakonis narrowed his eyes at his closest friend.
“Where is Clara?”
Alastair smirked. “Nice to see ya askin’.” Drakonis sighed, his eyes roving again. “Relax, aight. Tha empress insisted that she could watch her.”
“Mother?” Drakonis pushed.
Alastair pulled him along the stone path. The further they walked, the more men and women were mingling. Some tying kerchiefs to the hilts of hunter’s swords.
Drakonis gripped the hilt of his sword. Such traditions had never mattered to him before. Women had presented him with their kerchiefs before, to which he declined. After all, it was a gesture of lovers and a warrior’s promise to return. He and Clara weren’t exactly lovers, but had she presented him with such a gesture he would have accepted it.
The woman is ours. You should have told her about it. His dragon said.
She is not ours. He answered. And had she known it’s meaning then she wouldn’t have done it.
No matter how bad he wished it to be.
“O’er there,” Alastair said with a head nod. In the distance circular tables sat in front of elaborate gem colored tents. His mother, Yelena, sat at the center with Clara sitting to her right. They smiled as they spoke and drank tea while noblewomen hovered and glared. “All should be well as long as she ain’t ‘round Kazimir or Valen ya?”
He could think of no argument.
“What’d the emperor need?” Alastair asked.
“A warning,” Drakonis answered. He watched Clara’s expression, hoping his gaze would beckon her eyes to meet his. “He’s releasing a lindworm.”
“It’ll be a win for ya to be sure. I’m sure his other highness would shat his batluns before fighting that.”
Drakonis laughed, imagining it. The lindworm was a dangerous serpent that slunk around below ground, only lifting itself out when devouring its prey. Everything that lay below it, grew larger. And, if its prey were to run, it would swallow its tail and roll like a wheel. “It’ll be a grand prize for tha lady.”
Drakonis remembered Kazimir’s ambitious words.
“Do you want to dedicate a kill to her as well?’ Drakonis asked.
Drakonis couldn’t help narrowing his eyes.
Alastair quirked a brow. “And keep ya from wooin’ ya lady? Nah. I only want to make a grand enough kill that would be worthy of Gavril’s spirit.”
Drakonis felt unreasonable. He had always sent Alastair to be with Clara when he could not. Yet, when he saw Clara with Alastair, he felt anger and a craving to be next to her. Paranoia set within him that Alastair would steal her away, even if he knew there was no interest.
“I don’t know what has come over me,” Drakonis said.
“Eros must have shot you,” Alastair answered. “Just admit it Drakonis. You’ve become sweet on tha lady.”
Drakonis wanted to deny it. He treated all women equally; at a distance even when he bedded them, but he never thought twice about them. But Clara…that woman invaded his thoughts and dreams. Even though she was dressed conservatively, he still saw the shapely body rising from the water and the siren brown eyes catching his.
Sunlight kissed her golden skin making it twinkle in its rays and brightened her black waves. Yelena whispered in her ear, making her chuckle. Drakonis barely registered his mother’s glance.
“What the hell is he there?” Alastair growled.
“Who?”
Drakonis half transformed, his scaled hands enlarging and his feet pulsating against the heavy boots. Kazimir ruined the sight, approaching Clara and their mother. With grace, Clara stood and dropped in a curtsy. Her eyes didn’t raise from the ground even as he took her hand and kissed it.
Alastair grabbed his arm. “If ya go over there right now you’ll make a scene. Tha nobles are a’ready against ya.”
Drakonis knew it. Between the two brothers he was the one that was supposed to be the most composed. He was a war hero that represented the people. But all of that did not matter the moment Kazimir’s lips touched her.
Horns blew and drums heavily echoed in the sky. The hunt was beginning.
“Just win tha hunt Drakonis. That’ll mean more to tha lady.”
Kill the lindworm so we can show our dominance. His dragon bellowed.
His heart began to slow, while his blood began rushing. He felt eyes on his back, not knowing if it was Kazimir’s or Clara’s. Alastair raised a sword as they rushed into the wood. This lindworm was his, as was any other creature that would make Clara smile.
Slash!
Schwing!
With a grunt, a grand bull fell to the side. Surrounding earth shook as its thick hide collided. Uncut rubies sat in its hooves and chest. After taking them to a smith, they could easily become acceptable jewelry.
Drakonis knelt using a knife to chip away at the gems.
“That the third Yakut,” Alastair said. His once clean clothes were stained with black and crimson blood. His long sword was hoisted over his shoulder and lay over his wide shoulders. “Be sure to grab some of the hide so we can lure the Lindworm.”
“I know,” Drakonis said. After pocketing the rubies, Drakonis cut the underbelly, grabbing entrails and the liver. “Bring me a bag.”
“Eh we can use this.” Alastair unclipped his cape now covered in small holes. Drakonis did not hesitate to load his bait in, closing it with a top knot.
A bronzed orb, with purple flames, and one eye appeared in front of them and then took to the sky.
“That’s three Yakut, two chimeras, and a stag.” Drakonis named off. All three the largest of the kills, but it was still not the monster he wanted.
The two were deep enough into the forest, where rope looking moss hung from the trees by the feet. The bark of the trees were darkening and less greenery was visible. Large rocks and boulders were warped, and a stench was growing.
“We need to find signs of a tunnel or bones of animals,” Drakonis said.
Hair stuck to his face from dripping sweat. Like Alastair, he too was covered in blood and grime, but none of that mattered. He had to win. Victory in the Hunt was the ultimate way for a dragon to show his skill. He would open the festivities for the week representing the dragon’s triumph over the gods at their birth.
And it was sure to make a solid impression on Clara.
Mee mee!
From the distance, Drakonis saw a tunnel. The closer he got, the brighter the movement was. A golden shell was rolling on its side like a coin on hard ground. It bumped the toe of his boots then fell flat. A tiny cat face with large yellow eyes and gemstone tipped antennae popped out. It stood on its short red brown paws handing Drakonis a plant.
Mee mee! It said again.
“Tychi,” Drakonis said, affection lacing his tone. He bent to his knee, taking the gift and patting the animal’s head. The return nuzzles made him chuckle.
Tychi had been a pet for so long and was free to roam everywhere. He always seemed to appear when Drakonis needed it most or had been down. His lucky charm.
The plant had a petrified bug in its veins. Like a basilisk, the lindworm had the ability to turn things to stone, if need be, but only by the poison from his fangs.
“Were there any killed?” He asked Tychi.
His feline friend popped back into its shell, rolling back into the forest. In the darkening forest it left a trail of light, reminiscent of fireflies.
“Follow him!” Drakonis yelled. He and Alastair jumped from their heels picking up speed. Trees blurred as they ran, the bloody entrails falling bit by bit on the ground. Had they need for more they would kill more creatures.
Fog thickened, coating the leafless trees in a screen of gray. Had it not been for Tychi, his progress would be slower.
“We are moving into Kurdu territory!” Alastair yelled. “It’s almost a guarantee they’re going to show with that grime ya got!”
“Then we just kill them too!” Drakonis yelled. He hated the blasted things. Creatures like vampires, they were living between the realms of living and dead; their paws that of skeletons and hair the color of fresh blood. Instead of blood though they preferred flesh. The only way to truly kill them was to impale, behead or cremate. He prayed to the gods that he would not come across them while hunting.
Tychi stopped but did not come out of his shell. Drakonis and Alastair stopped, standing still. A large tree sat in the center of a field that might as well have been an entrance to the underworld. Leafless branches twisted like a tornado with the ends reaching unknown heights into the fog.
“Tych, you sure this is the right place bud?” Alastair asked. It was not the excitable bellow that his friend normally made. Blue and purple scales along their two bodies raised and glowed. A light wind that should not have ever made it this deep blew. Drakonis’s pet rolled again, but this time at the edge of the large tree, disappearing under the rocky dirt.
Seconds later the earth began to shake. Loose branches fell from the grand tree. Blinded by the thick fog, his and Alastair’s scales were the only light source to guide them. He closed his eyes, directing his senses to his pointed ears.
“Coming from the east!” Drakonis warned. The two extended their wings, jumping into the sky.
Like a spiked iron wheel, the lindworm rolled down the hill, spikes lining its spine. Debris of the earth kicked up in all directions. Smoke billowed in the air as it released its tail from its mouth. White, foamy, venom, dripped from its sharp fangs, forming holes on land.
Alastair threw hidden knives throughout its body. Not one pierced, bouncing off and landing into the dirt scattered in carcasses and bones. The lindworm coiled and pounced at Alastair. Like the warrior, he was, he swiped out of its reach, dragging his sword past its salamander like face. Drakonis threw his bag of entrails into the forest. As planned, the lindworm went for the bait, dragging them under the ground.
“Did you touch the venom?” Drakonis asked.
“Hell no,” Alastair answered. “But it would have been better to get heavier armor.”
Better bracers for himself would have been useful. They dropped to the ground, hands on the disturbed earth to predict its next movements.
The rumbling was getting further away. But was that because turning was difficult? Would it return?
“What’s the plan?” Alastair asked.
“We cannot touch its maw. We cannot risk getting touched with the poison.”
“Turn to stone just like ya gargoyle buds.”
Of all the times for Nero to show up, why could it not be now?
We do not need a gargoyle to kill this simple creature. His dragon hissed. He was right. If a gargoyle were to kill this creature, which represented the impossible gods, then he might as well have declared their superiority.
Cries echoed in the distance. Seemed like the lindworm found his next victim.
Drakonis clutched the hilt of his kilij in one hand and the second sword in his other. “Treat it like a snake,” Drakonis commanded. “We do not possess water or ice magick to bring its temperature down, but we can get to its underbelly.”
“At your command.”
The two warriors flew through the wood again, jumping off raised stones and old branches. In the distance, he saw ghost like fur the color of dimmed firelight.
Shit.
In a close field was Kazimir, Valerian, and one other nobleman he did not recognize. The lindworm was throwing a dragon in the air, catching it with its bloody maw.
“Cut the damn head off!” Kazimir commanded. Just as he expected, Drakonis watched as he commanded the two noblemen instead of drawing his own sword. Just as Alastair had tried, they cut the worm’s body but to no avail.
“Its skin is like iron!” Drakonis yelled.
“Why are you helping him?” Alastair asked. Drakonis didn’t answer. He bounded in the air, distracting the worm from killing anyone else. Three of the one eyed smoking orbs came into view in different spaces, staying out of his way. Kazimir’s spine straightened. He finally pulled out his sword.
“Alastair, watch for the kurdu!”
We must transform. His dragon commanded.
Not yet. Drakonis answered. It must be seen as a solid victory.
The worm sped towards him with his mouth opened. Drakonis swiped, cutting out its tongue.
Screech!
He dug his sword, pulling down, bathing himself in pink blood. The venom melted parts of his bracers and chest plate. He kept his mouth closed and pulled away as spots burned his face. Ice blue eyes burned a bright amethyst. His feet were pulsating inside his boots, itching to be released. His body burned with the half transformation he could feel.
“I will not let you take my victory!” Kazimir was there sweaty and unharmed. He knocked Drakonis out of the air, sending him falling. He flexed his wings, arcing up as a kurdu jumped to tear his limbs.
The stormy night when they were children came forefront in his mind.
A stormy, inky, black night. The marble blocks of the ruins. A wail as he was pushed off temple’s roof.
Chants and songs filled his ears as he felt life breathe into his veins.
Drakonis no longer saw a serpent and dragons. He saw enemies.
Fangs in his mouth elongated. His face became more pointed as scales spread from his cheekbones to his forehead and nose. He flipped his swords upward, cutting through the spinal spikes. The worm howled in pain. As much as it was injured, it fought harder. Its head whipped, ramming into Kazimir and sending him into the trees.
His wing was bent, and he half transformed as he slid to the ground. Valerian and Alastair were below killing the kurdu. Valerian with a spear to the heads and Alastair beheading them and throwing them into puddles of the venom.
The lindworm eyes focused on Kazimir as it coiled in an offensive stance.
Let the bastard die.
Drakonis wanted to. Life would be simpler. He would no longer have to worry about Clara’s safety and could be crown prince. All the nobles that were foolish enough to ally with Kazimir would suffer in the worst way at his hand.
“I’m sorry! I must!” Those were the last words his brother had yelled before he tried to send Drakonis to the underworld.
Kazimir had no problem sending him there so why could he not send his brother there?
Kazimir jumped out of the way. His scales, bright purple, raised as he was transforming on his healthier side. The side with his bent wing remained humanoid. All his talk about a true dragon and he could not even transform properly.
I tire of this. Drakonis thought.
He dropped his swords and let the fire in his belly consume him. Blood rushed through his arms, legs, hands, and feet. A pointed tail emerged, and his jaw and maw grew the size of massive trees. Arms and legs turned beast-like with talons. With a massive roar, Drakonis scooped up the lindworm, bolting in the air and throwing it up. It rotated with a scream. The sun glinted off the berry-colored scales.
Drakonis let out a final war cry as it flew towards the falling underbelly, running through it, making its entrails shower the dark forest as it was sliced in half.