Slayer
“Valao,” said Thetra.
“Yes, Rider?”
“Do you think the Destroyers believe we are abandoning them.”
Valao paused before responding, but finally, he said, “Of course not. They would rather have us live and not fight than die fighting. But I do think we should go back.”
Thetra sighed. “But listen to your words. If we go back, we will die.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take, Thetra.”
“I am not.”
“Well, we cannot separate. It is either we go back or keep running.” Valao stopped and faced Thetra.
Thetra avoided his eyes.
“Make a decision,” barked the dragon.
Finally Thetra looked up. “I will go,” he said.
Valao immediately crouched. “Get on me, then,” he said, waiting for Thetra to board him.
Thetra climbed onto Valao’s back, regretting rubbing himself against his dragon’s sharp scales.
Once he got up, Valao stood up straight and tall. He was about to yell a war cry when Thetra spotted something approaching them.
“Stop. Don’t go.”
Valao closed his mouth. “What is wrong, Rider?”
Thetra pointed to the golem who was quickly approaching them.
“I must fly above him. Does he see us?” said Valao.
“No, not yet. You need to abruptly lift up as high as you can go and then take off towards Destville at full speed.”
“Yes, Rider.”
“On three,” said Thetra. “One, two...”
The golem spotted them.
But it was too late. “Three!” yelled Thetra, and Valao started upward, flapping his wings as hard as he could.
“Great success!” shouted Thetra. “Now fly in that direction,” said Thetra as he pointed towards the army camps.
Valao took off as fast as his large and muscular body would allow, darting in and out of the huge puffy clouds that were filled with moist rain, ready to fall any minute.
“Go, go, go!” commanded Thetra, slapping Valao as they flew.
“Slapping doesn’t help,” protested Valao.
“Just fly, no complaining,” said Thetra.
Valao obeyed, using all his might to propel himself through the sky, and using the wind to his aid, as they helped by blowing south, the direction they were flying in.
It wasn’t until a day later they arrived, both Dragon Rider and dragon still in suit.
“Good flying,” complimented Thetra when they landed to see a massive battle scene laid out before them.
“Welcome back,” said Mordon. “We were in need of you.”
“Sorry,” said Valao. “We had to outrun a golem.”
“That’s difficult,” said Mordon.
“Well,” he continued, “The battle seems to be going in our favor, even without you, which surprises me, as it may to you.”
“Aye,” said Thetra.
“But the golems are yet to arrive.”
“By estimate they would be here in roughly three hours at the least,” said Valao. “Tomorrow at the latest.”
“That’s quite a long time span,” said Mordon with a smirk.
Thetra smiled.
“Well, start fighting is my suggestion,” said Mordon. “Thetra, you choose where to fight right now as you are the leader. And fight with your dragon.”
“I will post at the entrance where the approaching soldiers are coming in.”
“Smart idea. I shall go back to my postthe Garden.”
“Why is that under attack?”
“Their army is very hungry. After all, they have been traveling for days, only scrounging up what they could find around this humungous country. You can’t blame them.”
With that, they separated.
“Come on,” said Valao, leading Thetra to the Main Gate where the intruders were pouring in the camp.
Thetra smiled. “Let us go dominate the Great Army of Morchad!”
GREETING THE ATTACKERS
Thetra felt like a soldier on duty to meet and welcome all the newcomers to the army. He stood on one side of the broken gate, Valao on the other, waiting for the next group of enemy troopers to be seen.
“How many waves have entered by now?” Valao asked a nearby Dark Destroyer.
“Twenty-four,” he replied.
Thetra whistled under his breath, surprised at how many had already entered. “All humans?” he asked.
“Aye,” replied the soldier. “We are not alerted of the first wave of golems.”
“We saw them,” Valao spoke up. “They will be here soon. They are the rear of the army.”
“Good. That means the battle has progressed roughly halfway.”
Thetra and Valao exchanged looks. We haven’t been gone that long, have we? wondered Thetra, surprised.
“Yes, I see you are amazed. Well, the army is smaller than you may imagine, although their numbers are larger than ours.”
Thetra was silent.
“Good luck,” said the Destroyer, walking back to his post nearby.
“We may survive yet,” said Thetra with a smile.
Valao was serious. “There they are.”
And there they were. The next wave of Morchad’s troops had arrived.
DEFEAT
“Fire!” Thetra yelled to the cannons. “Fire!”
The soldiers firing turned the cannon to Rapid Fire, and the ballistic weapon killed what Thetra thought to be almost five hundred evil men.
“Destroy them!” yelled Thetra as he chopped the incoming soldiers’ heads off, giving the Destroyers inside the gate a much easier task.
Slayer cut through the soldiers like their skin was hot butter. The flashing green sword dominated the ordinary silver of the men’s armor.
I am invincible, thought Thetra. They cannot kill me, like I do to them. And it was true. His blade and his dragon were his only tools to destroying Evil’s Army.
The battle was rapidly progressing as the twenty-fifth wave of men was stopped by Thetra and Valao, all being killed. If one escaped by them, Valao ran up and ate them whole, which was their harsh punishment.
One of Morchad’s troops approached them in peace. They said, “I have come in peace, King Thetra. Please do not order your beast to attack me. I will fight with you.”
We cannot trust him. He could just disguise himself as Morchad’s soldier and fight for us, only to kill as many of our men as he can. Although he is bountiful, he is not trustworthy of our army.
“No,” said Thetra, and he sliced the man’s head off.
The battle then continued on quickly, the soldiers of Destville defeating the soldiers of Stankl Maobn.
And Thetra thought with a smile, How could we lose this battle?
The answer was clear–if golems came. And they did.
They arrived at midnight. Wave One held about eight golems, and once four were gone, five hours had passed, and seventy-five men had died. Then the army sent thirty golems to attack in the second wave, which left thirty-four golems for the Dark Destroyers to destroy. Once they killed twenty-six, seven hours had passed and one hundred and thirty men died. The final wave contained sixty-two golems, and eight left over from the second and first wave, which made it seventy total golems to fight with only 506 Dark Destroyers and fourteen dragons, as three dragons had passed against the humans and the first and second waves of golems.
By noon, only three golems coming from the past waves were dead, and there were 379 troops to fight the other sixty-seven golems.
“How...?” said Thetra, dreading the following minutes. “How do we win?”
“We kill them all,” responded Valao.
“But...”
“Just fight,” said Valao and he flew off toward a crowd of twenty-five golems, which he and Ejarshöh, along with a group of other humans fighting for Destville, destroyed.
“Forty-two left to die!” shouted Mordon, swinging his sword through a golems chest, and the enemy f
ell to the ground, his body crumbling to dust, as Mordon yelled, “Forty-one now!”
But now there were only 206 Dark Destroyers left to kill the remaining forty-one golems, which Thetra knew his army would not be able to do, unless by some miracle they all fought the hardest they had ever fought, which he knew they were not doing now.
As noon turned to afternoon, seventeen more golems died, along with 103 Dark Destroyers and one dragon.
“Twenty-four,” muttered Thetra. “No way we can do this. There is no possibility.”
But there was, and although it was very slim, as it was 1-500, they still could do it.
As fifty-three men died, leaving the Destville army with only fifty left to spare, nineteen golems died, which meant the fifty-three that had passed had fought their hardest, just as Thetra had wanted.
As two golems died, four dragons died as well, three of thirst and hunger, the other with a severe scratch along her belly.
“Three more,” said Thetra as twenty-nine men died away. There were twenty-one troops left.
“How about we split up?” said Mordon. “Put seven soldiers on each golem, and three dragons on each, while one dragon flies around and replaces the dead.”
“Good thought,” said Thetra. “Let us do it! Split up!”
The groups of men did as they were told, and soon there were seven men on one golem, surrounding them, while three dragons raked at their heads from their air.
Soon one golem died, and then another, until there were twenty people to fight one golem, and six dragons to fight it as well.
“Some of you know me,” scratched the golem’s voice as he died. “Some of you know me as Warvé. Like you.” He pointed a golem’s stubby finger at Thetra, and Arek ran over and lunged at Warvé’s throat with Stabber, only succeeding in piercing the air.
“I know you,” said Thetra. “And I also know your dead body.” He walked over to the golem and pointed Slayer at his right eye. “And tonight...Tonight you die. I shall meet your dead corpse with pleasure. Good night.” With that, Thetra swept Slayer over his face and the golem went limp, collapsing to the concrete floor of the Dark Destroyer kingdom.
A loud whoop rose from the crowd, but now Thetra knew something. And the knowledge came from Ingharr, who was speaking to him now.
The golem Warvé was the one who wanted your parents dead, said Ingharr. He ordered the three humans to kill them because Warvé could read the future. He knew you would be the hero who would have him dead. He knew you would kill him. He wanted to stop you by killing your parents so that you would not want to go to Destville. He did it so that while he was in Morchad’s mixing sphere being made, his master’s army would kill the whole population of Destville. And then there would be no more war, and Evil could rule the world, for they were planning to go to Bewaldt next to become the only empire in all of Arque, and so that Morchad could be the king. Once Warvé was made, he was sent by Morchad hereto Destville, so he could not only kill you, but your brother, too. Arek was his next target. He originally planned to stop you two from getting your dragons, but he was not yet completed. But once he was, he did everything he could to get to you and Valao. He wanted your whole family and friends dead, and he got most of them, but you were too strong. He could not get to you, nor your brother or your dragons. Therefore he was killed by you, for if he could not murder you, someone would have to murder you, and you took the responsibility today. In conclusion, the message I am attempting to give you is that Warvé wanted you dead, and you stopped him just minutes ago.
Thetra smiled. He had conquered a golem.
The next day, he started to realize more that there were only nineteen other men around the camp, and none of them were training or doing anything. At breakfast, there were no chefs so Thetra had kitchen duty.
“Eggs and ham!” shouted Arek. “Order up!”
“This is going to be the worst meal I’ve ever eaten,” said Satym.
“Worse than jail?” asked Thetra.
“At least the bread had grains in it,” she muttered in response.
The day progressed quite slowly, and Thetra soon thought about how there were no other recruits. His army had sucked up all of Arque’s population, and now most cities were abandoned except for their city’s government and mayor.
“Who else is one our side?” asked Thetra. “There’s hardly any Arque left in this old country.”
“The only other one is Morchad.” Arek stiffened his back. “And his dragon if he has one.”
“Aye,” said Jordan.
“So you’re saying we rule the country?” said Arek.
“No, because Bewaldt’s government is still there, and whoever is our king is the king.”
“Honoglata,” said Arek.
“Aye.” Thetra looked at Arek as if he finished his statement. “Understand?”
“Crystal clear,” replied Arek.
“Well then what must we do?” asked Jordan.
“We must do nothing, but we can do something,” said Thetra with a smirk, as that was a saying his father had once taught him.
“Well then I will teach Lokapoka and Jordan some tricks on battle skills,” said Satym.
“Alright,” said Thetra. “Arek, Mordon, and I will count how many of my comrades passed in the battle, and who’s still living.”
“Aye,” said Morchad. “There are fourteen others besides us.”
“Well I know which dragons lived,” said Arek. “Ejarshöh, Valao, Ghuar, Casmig, and two of Ghuar’s friends.”
“Ghuar mentioned the survivors were Torke and Harldart, who both were hiding in faraway countries,” said Mordon.
“Alright,” said Thetra. “Well I hope Algonge is still alive. That boy had talent.”
“Aye,” agreed Arek, and they left ate their breakfast, which surprised Thetra at how good it tasted.
After the meal they left the Dining Hall and did a wake-up call to see who was still alive. To Thetra’s relief, Algonge answered.
But he was expecting fourteen answers. Only thirteen came.
THE LOST SURVIVOR
“Who is hiding?” asked Arek unreasonably, as no one knew who had escaped.
“We do not know,” replied Thetra. “How would we?”
“I am just anxious to know,” replied Arek, stung by Thetra’s words, which weren’t very harsh.
“So are we,” responded Mordon. “I do wonder who it might be.”
“One of our comrades?” said Thetra.
“Ney, they would have answered the call. It could possibly be one of our recruits and we never knew their name. Maybe they were alive at the end of the battle but died just after,” replied Mordon.
“Possibly...” said Thetra, still with a doubt.
“Let us ask the survivors if they have seen any men that look suspicious,” said Arek.
“Alright,” said Thetra. “Shall we have the other survivors help us look, or just have them explain their evidence?”
“No,” said Mordon. “Let them rest. They fought hard.”
“I agree,” said Arek. “Let us go and find them.”
They set off upstairs and split up, each going to four or five survivor’s rooms, and asking them if they had seen anything unusual since the battle the day before, but all rejected.
“Then we will have to find him or her ourselves,” said Arek.
“Aye,” said Thetra and Mordon.
“Although I really do not know who possibly would even want to hide from us, unless they went back to their home somewhere in this large country.”
“If they did, then let them,” said Mordon, picking up a walking stick. “But they can’t be too far. If we spot them running, get them. But if we can’t find them in the next two days...” Mordon sighed. “Then we have lost a very special person. In the future, citizens all over Arque will know and remember this horrible bloodbath, and if we have all the survivors, then we would be evidence that this battle really took place here, for the only people that are ever g
oing to be in this country in the future will be the government people’s children and the men coming from faraway lands that moved here to make a living or just to have shelter, food, and water. No one can live in this country, or at least not in all the other cities.”
“Agreed,” said Arek and Thetra.
They exited the building, only to find themselves on the rooftop, where they looked down on the land, searching for the lost survivor.
It became noon and when they still found no sign of the lost soldier, Arek decided they give up looking and eat, which might make them feel better. Neither Thetra nor Mordon objected.
After lunch, there was still no sign of him, and by the time they ate supper, they had a plan.
“We shall go on a night hunt,” said Thetra.
“Agreed,” said Mordon and Arek.
Those were the only words spoken at that meal. The rest was silence.
THE NIGHT HUNT
“Maybe a golem ate him,” said Arek, trying to cheer the group up.
“All the golems are dead,” said Mordon.
“I was only joking,” Arek muttered under his breath.
“This is no time for jokes, Brother,” said Thetra. “We must be serious in our actions, for if we make one false decision, then we may never find our escaper.”
“Sorry,” whispered Arek.
The sun was just setting, and it was time for dusk. The horizon lit up the night clouds, illuminating the path that the three men were following.
All of a sudden they heard a noise. It was a noise that Thetra knew right that then he would regret hearing for the rest of his life.
He gasped. For standing in front of him, was a creature he knew only too well from the stories he had heard in Toage. And as he looked over at Arek, he saw the same expression on his face as Thetra probably had.
For standing in front of them was an Entara.
Arek
“Do...not...move,” muttered Arek.
The great horned beast stared at them with wide bulging eyes, breathing in and out so loudly that it sounded like a trumpet Eouhja used as a wake-up call. Arek heard the Entara’s heart beating a hundred times a second, which meant that either it had recently been running, or that it getting ready to strike. Arek suspected the latter.