Chapter 23 （Samantha）The Sleeping Dragon
Chapter 23 (Samantha)
The Sleeping Dragon
D anareth stood before me, his dark skin contrasting with his short, bright blue hair. He stood taller than me. He wasn’t very muscular, but he had more than other priests and wore a long sleeveless gray tunic showing up his arms. The Shadow Weavers’ high priest had arrived early this morning. I was impressed by the speed with which the elf had come and suspected he had used the services of the magic guild to get here so quickly. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that such a guild might be useful in Ichoryllia. Perhaps I’d open such an establishment once Alastor’s prophecy was fulfilled. Although vampires didn’t have the same magical powers as elves, some of us were very mighty .
Whatever the case, it was clear that the Shadow Weavers were very excited at the prospect of eternal life—the fools. I hadn’t hesitated to lie to them to get their alliance in our plan. All I needed from them was the dragon’s heart and their knowledge about the Rod of Origins. Their cult had researched it at great lengths before acquiring it. That is before we hired the Thieves’ Guild to steal it from them. I wouldn’t trust such a powerful relic in the hands of those fools.
“High Priestess.” The elf bowed before me.
“Rise, Danareth.” He may not be a king, but the priest was about the same level as me in his religion. “You don’t need to bow to me.”
The elf stood up, unaccustomed to such familiarity from a queen.
“Have you brought what I asked for?” I inquired.
The elf stared at me, his blue eyes shining with a dark power. “I have brought the book,” he answered as he took an old tome from his leather satchel. The pages were held with old strings and looked yellowed and uneven. It was smaller than I had anticipated it to be. Still, I reached out to grab it as the elf approached, the softness and warmth of the leather pleasant under my fingers.
The title read The Dark Arts of Manipulating Time . Holding it in my hands, a feeling of might came over me. I inhaled deeply, adrenalin coursing through my veins. I knew I had the key to a forbidden ancient magic.
“And you say this book talks about the Rod of Origins?” I inquired.
“Yes, Priestess. That’s how we originally learned about the ancient artifact. It tells how to activate it. We had planned to use it to gain eternal life. Of course, that was before our agreement. ”
The way he said the last words implied that he wanted me to repeat my intentions, which I could understand. After all, he would have completed his end of the bargain before me. It was only fair to reassure him even if I had no intention of keeping my word. When I’d finished and Alastor was back among the living, I’d have more than enough power to crush them like bugs.
“Of course, I haven’t forgotten my promise to you.” The elf smiled at my words. I held back a grin at the ease with which he drank from my lies.
It was too easy.
“Now, have you brought the heart as I asked?”
His face changed at this question. “I intended to bring the dragon’s heart, but it was stolen last night.”
“It was what?” I asked furiously. This put my whole plan in jeopardy. The heart was necessary if I was to revive the beast.
“Thieves infiltrated our ceremony last night—a whole bunch of them. Many of our members were killed in the process. We caught and killed the one holding the heart, only to realize it was an illusion. We hadn’t anticipated them to be such skilled mages.”
I stormed. “You fools! You should have anticipated such.”
“Only followers attend our meetings,” countered Danareth, visibly irritated. “We’ve been harnessing the dragon’s powers for years and never had any problems. There was nothing to hint that last night would be different.”
I paced back and forth in front of my throne.
The elf resumed. “We searched all night for the heart but couldn’t detect its magic. ”
“Have you looked at the magic guild? Surely one of the mages there is powerful enough to conceal the heart.”
“You think we didn’t thought of that?” retorted the indignant elf. “It’s not that simple. We can’t just ask to search the magic guild from top to bottom.”
If it had been me, I’d have done it. I would have mercilessly destroyed anyone who opposed me. Of course, it would mean war on the elves. The Shadow Weavers probably didn’t hold a strong enough force to attack the kingdom dead on.
He continued, “Anyway, I discussed with other members. We believe the royal mages have stolen the heart. They are the strongest mages. I don’t believe anyone in town is strong enough to hold the heart without being consumed by it, even at the magic guild. We didn’t have time to confirm or investigate more, as it happened last night, but we’re on it. We have informers in the castle.”
I stopped walking and loosened my fingers, realizing my hold on the book was so tight that an impression was made on the cover. I wouldn’t want to damage the old tome.
“So, what are you waiting for?” I asked.
“High Priestess,” he began, “attacking the castle would be open warfare against the king and our people. We can’t afford it, and even if we could, we’d be crushed by the royal guards and mages.”
What annoyed me the most was that I knew he was right. Even I couldn’t go to the elven city and openly attack the castle.
I sighed. “That’s fair.”
“I hope this doesn’t change our deal,” he hesitantly added.
I refrained from rolling my eyes. It didn’t change anything because I didn’t intend to give them eternal life anyway.
“Of course not,” I answered with a fake smile, sitting on my throne again. “The book will be very helpful. You may go. I will stay in touch for the next steps.”
The elf took his leave. Alone with the book, I longed to undo the cords that held its pages together and immerse myself in the ancient, forbidden knowledge it contained. Even without opening it, I could smell the scent of ink and paper.
Just as I was about to open the pages and indulge, Lysander burst into the room.
“Your Majesty,” he said, agitated. “There’s been another attack.”
“Another?” I asked, annoyed. “This is the third this week.”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so. Ten more orcs. One vampire was killed.”
I let out a breath through clenched teeth. Those damn orcs were getting on my nerves. “Still no volunteers to go to Krelgraz?” I inquired.
“There are a few, but only a handful. It will not be enough.”
He was right. They would be crushed, and it would have a meaningless impact on the orcs. I didn’t care if they died, but I wanted the problem solved at the same time.
“Double the reward. Spread the news even more. We need more people.”
The old vampire nodded. Despite his son now being king, Lysander insisted on keeping his job as a servant at the castle. He had done this all his life and wanted to keep at it as long as he could. Just as I was thinking about this, Viktor entered the room .
“My beautiful queen,” he said with a smile that immediately made my heart race.
I climbed down from my throne and met him, locking myself in his embrace. He placed a kiss on top of my head.
“Is it time?” I asked.
He smiled knowingly. “Yes.”
I had waited for so long for this moment. Viktor had offered to manage all the details for me, showing his devotion like a good husband should.
It was a complicated operation, and much thought had been put into it. We had finally decided on a horse-drawn carriage to bring Scorchfire’s corpse to the castle. I was initially tempted to use Alastor’s sigil, like on the night we stole Scorchfire’s corpse, but the reduced lifespan was an unattractive side effect. It had been acceptable on the day of the dragon’s death since we only had a few minutes to move the body in absolute secrecy. As we had plenty of time to move the body now, I preferred to avoid it. The main road near our lair was wide enough to accommodate a large carriage, crossing only fields, so it was perfect.
We had hitched six horses to a large carriage. The dragon’s wings were attached with a spell to keep them close to its body. We put a tarp over it to avoid attracting too much attention and cast an illusion spell to give people the impression of seeing a regular cart carrying hay stacks. Our strongest Mi?onblood mages were on board, casting whatever other spell they needed to ease the transport.
Yesterday morning, the carriage left our hidden place of worship. Viktor had foreseen the whole operation and hurried back to arrive before the carriage. I was glad that we didn’t have to hide the body anymore.
I held Viktor’s hand as we set off for the cathedral without waiting. The entrance doors were wide open, ready for the carriage. Everything was finally taking shape! I couldn’t believe it was finally here. It would become much more real when I saw the dragon in the cathedral.
“Your Majesty,” Dreven said when he saw us arrive.
“Prepare for the dragon’s arrival,” I ordered. The priest bowed.
“Shall we go watch closer?” asked Viktor.
To say I was excited was an understatement. But I needed to stay posed as my role imposed it.
I nodded, and we passed through the great cathedral gates to take the path down from the castle. People stared at us as we walked, moving out of our way out of respect. We reached the end of the street where the mound began. Down below, I could already see the horse-drawn carriage. They struggled up the slope, their big carriage stretching to the edge of shops and houses. Curious onlookers flocked to the sides of the street to look at the vast carriage. Fortunately, the illusion spell meant that people thought it was a large hay wagon, but its size attracted people.
I waited patiently for them to reach me. When the carriage finally arrived, the coachmen, Mi?onblooders mages, bowed to us. One of them held out his hand and helped me aboard. Viktor helped himself up beside me. He put his arm around my shoulders as we rode in the carriage .
The illusion spell was still effective, so to the citizens, it would appear I was riding in a regular carriage carrying hay.
“You take horse supplies seriously, Your Majesty,” complimented an old vampire with a smile .
I nodded, smiling with amusement at how these people had no idea what we were really transporting. Vampires around us were trying to get my attention. I knew there were some disgruntled vampires, but as I had the habit of killing all who protested, they didn’t dare appear in front of me anymore. I remained vigilant, but the crowd comprised vampires who supported my reign.
A few minutes later, we arrived at the cathedral. The guards were pushing the citizens out of the castle courtyard. We quietly rolled the carriage into the cathedral. The wheels were almost touching the room’s walls. Any bigger, and it wouldn’t have fit. But by Alastor’s grace, we finally got the carriage into the room before unhitching the horses. After such a journey, they deserved a good rest.
I lifted the tarp covering the body of the beast. I had instructed our mages to keep the body fresh. They had cast a gentle respose spell every two weeks to prevent the dragon’s body from decaying. Thanks to this, Scorchfire looked the same as when he died. His scales were as fresh and supple as twenty years earlier. He looked as if sleeping, and if it hadn’t been for his missing heart and severed claws, I’d have expected him to wake up.
I growled at the thought that I didn’t have the beast’s heart. It was necessary to revive him. You could do without the claws. They were just a detail and would grow back, but the heart was mandatory. In any case, we’d find it. I wouldn’t hesitate to attack the elven castle if necessary, but one thing at a time. I would prefer to avoid war with the elves.
I congratulated them, “Well done. Be sure to keep it fresh until the time comes for us to relive it.”
The two mages bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”