Mega Dragon: Harbinger of Death

A ROGUE PRINCE

It was a clear night, devoid of any clouds. The castle and everything around it basked in the moon’s divine light. It emanated a peaceful aura and a sense of feeling so strong, that even the wolves didn’t hunt that night. But even on such a peaceful night, the castle was still heavily guarded. Not by humans. Nay, by Egorks.

Egorks were distant cousins to the trolls, who at that time were almost extinct. The Egorks too was not a thriving race. They scurried over remains of humans and sometimes preyed on wandering travelers. The roads were no longer safe. Not for the weak, they weren’t. But have they ever been truly safe? Egorks weren’t the kind to conquer towns or villages. Much less a kingdom. That was all until the mega dragon incident that saw the mega dragons overthrow the rule of the humans and dragons. Some of the races aligned with them to seek protection. They were mostly minority races but even some humans defected too for fear of losing their lives.

Ever since Ahovin fell, the humans offered very little resistance to the mega dragons. And one by one, they took over kingdoms. Kingdoms who were yet to pledge allegiance to the mega dragon queen. She had representatives from every race, who somehow could communicate with her. How this was possible was still unknown but one thing had been made clear, there was no stopping her.

The kingdom of Arbiove was one of the unfortunate kingdoms to be targeted. They refused to pledge allegiance and their kingdom was taken from them. A heavy battle was fought to protect their lands but they all crumbled before the might of the mega dragon queen now referred to as ‘the queen’. The royal castle was now in her custody and under the protection of one of her Egork generals; Momor. Arbiove was one of the most fortified kingdoms that existed outside of the Ahovin empire and its fall dealt a great blow to the human army even further, not forgetting the shivers it sent down the spines of the smaller kingdoms who were all less powerful. This prompted a lot of them to defect from the human alliance and others to form stronger groups.

Atlan Deharas and his group were somewhat different. Some regarded them as a rebel group while others see them as knights in shining armor. But in fact, they were none of these. Sure, they fended off Egorks and the likes, but only for those who could pay. The world had long since left the era of noblemen. And their new contractor was the King of Arbiove. He had survived the last battle and planned to retake his kingdom. He and the survivors were far away from Arbiove but his only son was taken hostage. The Egorks planned to use him to draw them out to destroy them out before they get the chance to regroup and strengthen themselves for a siege. And that was Atlan and his team’s mission; to rescue the prince of Arbiove.

Atlan’s team who were known as the Elites were known to undertake any mission against the Mega dragons. They had a 100% success rate. Whatever missions they took, they were sure to complete. That being said, they had turned down a lot of missions, regardless of the pay. Atlan wasn’t ready to dabble into anything he wasn’t sure he would succeed. And this mission was no different. If he took it, then he would surely rescue the prince.

The Elites quickly scaled the palace walls with stealth. There was a total of six of them all dressed in cloaks and armor underneath. As they found their way into the castle, they parted ways. Everyone knew exactly what their job was and where to go. Having the King of Arbiove show you the secret passages into the castle made their job a whole lot easier.

Atlan quickly made his way into the castle chambers without alerting the Egork guards. He was a tall man, with a well-trained body. He moved swiftly to search through the rooms. He didn’t expect them to manhandle the prince. He was an important bargaining chip in the eventuality that they needed one. He was born into riches so he might break from intense suffering. But alas, he was wrong. The prince was not in any of the chambers. 

He ran through the halls as he came but ran into some guards on the way. They were too many for him to deal with silently, so he made a run for it. they didn’t get a clear enough image of him, but they were on his tail nonetheless. Outrunning Egorks was an easy sport for Atlan who made a living from being a thorn in their feet every time he got the chance. 

But the worst was far from over though. Of all the Egorks to run into; Momor, the Egork general in charge of the castle. And beside him was the prince, all chained up. He wasn’t as fragile as Atlan would have thought. He looked like a mess.

“Well, what do we have here? Fate has finally brought you to me, Atlan Deharas,” Momor exclaimed. The tone in his voice was joyous. Not because he was reunited with an old friend. No, they were anything but that. He finally had a chance to avenge his fallen comrades. Not to mention redeem himself for the humiliation he experienced the last time they faced off.

Atlan was not pleased. He was on a tight schedule. He didn’t want to have to concern himself with such insignificant creatures. But what choice did he have? Momor was holding his prize. He couldn’t just ignore him. “Momor! It’s been a while, mate. I’d love to chat and reminisce about old times, but I’m on a tight schedule you see. How’s your jaw? I see you’ve sewn it together,” Atlan teased. There was no sense in riling Momor up. Not when he was holding the prince. But Atlan was enjoying Momor’s enraged face. Why would he deprive himself of such pleasure? Momor wouldn’t lay a hand on the prince. While doing so would ruin Atlan’s mission, it also gave him no reason to stick around. And Momor would only achieve satisfaction if he took down Atlan. Nothing less.

Atlan was aware that he would have to fight his way through, no matter what he said. So why would he be nice? He might as well have some fun now while figuring a way out of this fix. “How about you let the prince and I go, and I’ll just pretend like I was never here. That way, I don’t have to kill everyone,” Atlan goaded. His grin was more infuriating than Momor thought it would be. He had dreamed of how he would t*****e Atlan so many times if he had the chance. Seeing him gloat made his blood boil so much that he almost charged straight at Atlan. But he was sure it was all bait. And the last thing he would do would be to fall for Atlan’s tricks once again.

“You flatter yourself, Atlan. There are over a hundred Egorks here, how do you intend to get out?” Momor retorted. Atlan was strong, but he was greatly outnumbered. There were rumors that Atlan alone had taken on an army of a thousand Egorks and won. But that was all they were; rumors. Surely there was no truth in that.

“So that’s a no?” – Atlan shook his head – “Such a shame. And here I was hoping I wouldn’t have to soil my sword with the blood of a hundred Egorks,” he teased.

But Momor wasn’t falling for his bait this time. The memory of their last encounter haunted every day since. He would play the game just as Atlan did. He held all the cards, so he was the only one who could deal.

“I have an idea!” Momor exclaimed. His face brightened a little. “How about you face my champion in a one-on-one combat?”

Atlan was unfazed. Momor had better chances when he threatened to g**g up on him with his army of Egorks. He was sure there was a catch to it. There was no Egork alive that was a match for him. And Momor knew that as well. He was clearly up to something.

“Unarmed!” Momor continued, hoping to get Atlan to show a disturbing expression. He knew well that Atlan was ridiculously strong. He already knew what he had in mind to propose, but he was just biding time.

Atlan was confident. He had killed many Egorks unarmed on many occasions and he didn’t see how this would be any different. One-on-one combat was a joke to him. He’d defeat a fully armed Egork with nothing more than a fork in a matter of moments. Whatever Momor threw at him, he could handle. 

“To the death!” Momor added once more. He was enjoying this. So this was how Atlan felt whenever he toyed with them. It was a glorious feeling after all.

“What am I supposed to do, beat him to death? I have to say, that’s a bit too brutal, even for you,” Atlan retorted. He was anything but a pacifist, but why condemn your men to such a brutal fate. Regardless of whether the Egork was physically stronger than him, it amounted to nothing, if it didn’t work against it. Speed might have been an attribute that would have worked well for it, but not strength. Atlan would be done with this hassle in a matter of seconds.

But Momor had other plans. A rather ludicrous suggestion if you might say. “With your hands tied behind your back!” Momor added. He knew that Atlan’s pride would make him accept whatever condition he set, no matter how unfavorable. As long as he staked something that Atlan wanted. 

“What?” Atlan retorted.

“For the prince,” Momor replied. He hoped Atlan would accept it. Even he would have trouble fighting an Egork under such conditions. He was well aware that Atlan wasn’t alone. Not only would he assure that Atlan was occupied, but he would also bide enough time for his soldiers to find the rest. 

“Wouldn’t your master be mad if you lost the prince so cheaply?” Atlan goaded. As unfavorable as it would seem, it mattered not to Atlan. One Egork would never be enough.

“Cheaply? Well, that is if you win,” Momor added. He was irked at how Atlan still kept his composure. He loathed him even more.

Atlan sighed. It was a bother to fight with such a handicap. He would have to be making a lot of movements and this, Atlan always tried to avoid. “You should have just told the guy you don’t want to work with him anymore. Why go for the dramatics, by giving him a humiliating death? Anyway, where is he?” Atlan teased.

A humongous Egork approached him wielding an equally large battle-ax. He looked truly menacing enough to be dubbed a champion of an Egork army. His bloodshot eyes and gnashing teeth followed by a thundering roar did nothing to peak Atlan’s interest in the fight. “Great, we have a lousy one”, Atlan said blandly. 

Atlan observed his surroundings. Several Egorks formed a battle stage in form of a circle around them. Atlan doesn’t expect Momor to keep his end of the bargain if he wins. That would be unrealistic of him. Momor was a bloodthirsty hound. No matter how much it seemed like fun and games, Atlan knew he wanted his head. He would never let him leave. 

But he couldn’t act without his archer backing him up. It was too big a risk when the prince was involved. That was the problem with hostage-type missions. If it was just a siege, he would have ended all those Egorks rather quickly. But the safest way was to wait for his archer. 

He wasn’t sure whether his archer Harold, was in position, but he would assume that he was. That was the plan. It was too early for anything to go wrong. And if it did, they had contingency plans as well. For now, he would keep that humungous Egork busy until he figured something out.

Looking closely at Momor, he noticed that his hand is on the prince’s shoulder. As Atlan dropped his weapons, two Egorks tied his hands behind him, rather tightly like they were expecting him to try to wriggle free of his bonds amidst the fight. He had no intention to though. He didn’t need his hands to beat this Egork. It had to be slow. He didn’t need to end it quickly. All Atlan wanted was to make sure Momor’s hands were not on the prince in any way. Momor could project spikes from different parts of his body. Although they were quite short once out, trying to attack Momor while he was still in physical contact with the prince could result in the prince’s injury or worse, his death. But for now, he needed to keep the Egork in front of him occupied. Ending the fight quickly was not in his favor in any way.

The Egork raises his hands with his ax in one hand and howled. The army of Egorks cheered him on. He was their champion after all. But he was nowhere near intimidating Atlan. A glint of light on the Egork’s hand, a signal that only he could see was enough of a sign that Atlan’s archer was in position. Finally, he could let loose.

The Egork charged straight at Atlan. He was an open, easy target. Or so he thought. He lost sight of Atlan the moment he swung his ax and in that second of a window, the Egork’s head was trapped between Atlan’s legs. And snap…