Slay the Dragon

CHAPTER 18 - ERYS

Rath was surrounded by pine trees, and so the birds chirping around sounded crazier as the sun slowly settled down. The village became busier as the skies grew darker. Several village men chopped their harvest of logs while the women carried water jars on top of their heads. Horses brought cargos of woods and livestock from the other villages.

The sight of children helping their parents made Erys recall his own people in the isles … the little dragons who used to play in the skies … and the rest who worked in harvest and mines. He never knew humans could also have such a livelihood. He remembered Ilora Village, where he and Forsyr had caused that fire. With regrets, he hoped that the family already found a home to sleep in. He felt bad for them—and he felt stupid himself.

Erys made his way through the village, trying to keep his eyes down. He had expected a lot of hunters in Rath, but he only saw a few. They might have already left to prepare for the war, he thought.

The war …

The dragons in Draconos must be heading to Ormir Fortress by now. Erys whispered a curse as the village of Ilora came back to his mind. The people there had no clue about the threat coming their way. He’s such a fool. He should’ve warned the villagers … What if the dragons would burn all of them? And their homes?

They would die, all of them, all because of him.

Damn it.

As Erys entered the huge inn, he found a few people left on the tables. His eyes instantly caught Forsyr and the blond-haired man, Izan, discussing something over the table. It looked odd to him. Forsyr would never talk like that to any human, as he had trusted no one of them.

“You live in a volcano?” Izan exclaimed in awe, holding his head. The orange rays of sunset traveled through the open windows and kissed his bright green eyes.

Erys stormed his brows. What was so shocking about living in a volcano? At first glance, he thought this guy was one of those dragon hunters, but he seemed unarmed … and rather inexperienced on the battlefield.

Erys sat on the wooden chair beside Forsyr, his eyes searching everywhere to find the girl who introduced herself as Mave. He planned to ask some questions from her. But it appeared … she was not here.

“Most dragons live in their nests. But we take shelter in Volcron,” Forsyr explained.

“Volcron?”

Forsyr nodded. “The biggest volcano in Draconos … and the first one that formed when it erupted and became an island.”

“Astonishing,” Izan nodded while creating some unusual, small symbols on paper using a feather.

A feather? Erys lifted a brow. This guy must be crazy.

“What’s happening to him?” he whispered in Forsyr’s ear. “What is he doing?”

“I don’t know,” Forsyr showed a funny look, “But I find his strong interests in our isles quite oddly entertaining.”

Izan stopped all of a sudden and raised his eyes to them. “Is something wrong with my face?”

“We’re only wondering how strange it is for a human to be so passionate about how we live,” Forsyr said.

“Are you a spy?” Erys asked him.

“I’m a chronicler,” Izan pointed out. “Well, not yet. But I’ll become one someday after I finish my first chronicle. It’s called the ‘Way of Dragons.’ As it happens, we chroniclers travel and write. We explore and discover things based on our own experiences. But I must say, I’m very fortunate to have actual dragons in front of me whom I can ask questions to. You see, I’ve got some theories about you … and guess what? One of them is already proven. Dragons can talk indeed!”

Erys exchanged glances with Forsyr.   

The Lawdra bobbed his head. “Well, we agreed to exchange information, if that’s okay with you, My k—“

“Of course, yes,” Erys elbowed him. “That’s why we’re here.”

Forsyr curved his lips into an apologizing smile.

“With the best of my knowledge, I’ll answer all your questions about us humans.” Izan adjusted his eyeglasses.

Erys started by asking, “What do you know about the Orb of Phlareus?”

“Ah, the Core of the Phoenix … and the Heart of Magic in Drava,” Izan’s face lightened up with the topic, “To be honest, I know not much of it as I’ve never been inside the Sun Palace. But I’ve read a book from Fernando Milan, the only chronicler who’d ever entered the palace. He stated that the orb was in the possession of the Emperor’s lineage for many generations.”

“But they have no right of owning it,” Forsyr said. “They only stole it from the dragons, which then sparked the Red Century War.”

Erys nodded in agreement. The orb had been originally discovered by the dragons. Back when they were still roaming the skies like flocks of birds, traveling from a place after place, they found the isles of Volcron. The volcano contained fiery liquid, which the dragons thought was lava, but when one of them fell into the pool by accident, he was unhurt. They said it was not actual lava—but a glowing liquid with flames coming out on the surface. The dragons drank from the pool, which then gave them the ability to breathe fire. Later on, they discovered the source of the magic pool—the orb, hiding in the depths of the fiery waters. They settled in the isles of Draconos with the power of the orb until … a tricky human came to steal it, causing the Great War.

“That’s quite the opposite of our history here,” Izan said. “It claimed that the orb came from Phlareus, the Sun God … and that the dragons tried to take it from the humans.”

“History will always be written by those who were victorious,” Forsyr replied with a sigh.

“What else do you know about the orb?” Erys asked.

Izan opened his bag and pulled out a thick pile of paper, bounded by leather. He flipped the papers and said, “The Orb of Phlareus is a sphere with an infinite flow. It pours out its own magic in the Flerin.”

“The Flerin? What is it?”

“Flerin, the Lake of Fire.”

“A lake of fire inside the palace? What for?”

“A mystery still unknown until now,” Izan said. “But rumors say that the weapons they used to win the Red Century War were from the lake. One proof we have for that assumption is the Hunter’s Cape.”

Erys had to agree. The velvet cape which those dragon hunters used had made them immune to fire. Those must have come from the Lake of Fire … from the power of the orb.

“Other rumors have spread about vials and potions that can escalate human strength in the level of dragons,” Izan added. “But we still have no evidence of that.”

“Tell us about the palace, young chronicler,” Forsyr said.

Izan drank in his glass of water and continued after. “The Sun Palace is the most dangerous place in Drava, I believe. It terrified me after knowing how many chroniclers have tried to go inside to write about that palace … but only Fernando Milan got out, barely, and he almost died. You see, entering or escaping without notice would be suicide.” Izan crossed his arms. “That’s the only knowledge I have for you.”

Erys almost forgot to breathe. If that’s the case, then sneaking inside the palace would be a lot harder than he thought. But he still had to try. Most of the guards there might be leaving for the war. He only needed to reach Sunvar soon while they’re still busy on the battlefield.

They all turned their heads to the door as Mave entered the inn. When she saw them, she only nodded, then she sat at the counter across from the serving lady.

Erys leaned forward to Izan. “Tell me … why is she traveling to our isles with you?” He asked in a low voice.

“If I tell you, she’ll kill me, man,” Izan replied. “It’s quite personal. If you want to know, ask her yourself.”

Without a word, Erys stood up, walked, and sat in the high chair next to Mave. For a moment, she did not say a word, and so did he—until the owner came.

“What drink you want?” the lady said.

Erys blinked in confusion.

“Beer? Wine? Rum?” the lady raised her eyebrows.

“Uh …” Erys didn’t even know what those are.

“He’ll have the same as mine.” Mave suddenly spoke without taking a glance at him.

After a short while, the lady returned with two glasses containing white liquid.

“Charge it from that glasses guy,” Mave told the lady, pointing at Izan.

Erys only stared at his glass. “What’s this?” he asked Mave.

“Milk and honey,” she said before drinking. She placed it down after and asked, “How is he?”

 “He …? Oh, he’s being treated now by the herbalist,” Erys replied. He just came to check Vahlyr in the Medrin earlier. The sellsword needed to rest from those cuts and bruises he’d got from the fight.

Erys sipped on his glass and found the taste very sweet.

“Let’s not waste time and get straight to the point,” Mave said. “You said you wanted to ask questions in return for saving my life … so I don’t have to thank you. What do you want to ask?”

Erys finished his drink before he started. “First of all, I want to know why you want to go to Draconos.”

Mave shook her head. “Anything but that.”

“But you said you’ll answer all my questions.”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of your concern. Why do you want to know?”

“You’re heading to my … to our isles. Of course, it’s my concern.”

Mave turned her gaze to him. Those bright blue eyes only hinted growing frustration. Then she shut them close before giving a sigh. “I’m searching for your leader or whatever beast is leading you.”

“Leader?” Erys blinked in confusion.

“The leader … the Hyborn,” Mave said.

Erys’ eyebrows met as he leaned closer to her. “And what do you want with the hyborn?” He lowered his voice. Had they met before? Not that he could remember, but that would be impossible. He had never seen or met a human his entire life until his journey began. So why the hell would she travel all the way to Draconos and search for the hyborn?

Mave tightened her grip on her glass, he saw. “You don’t want to know.”

“Tell me.” His tone sounded desperate.

Mave looked at him, her eyes filled with hatred and resentment. “Because that monstrous beast destroyed my village … and burned my parents alive.” Her teeth clenched the way she said it, pointing a finger at the door.

Erys parted his lips and pursed them back. He stared at her face, flushed with anger. His mind thought of different possibilities for how it happened. So far, he could only think of his brother, because his father could never do it.

“I’m sorry—“

“Why do you all like to burn everything you see? What good it will benefit you from doing such horrible things?” Her voice sounded like she wanted to shout, but she kept it. “I’ll never forgive that demon,” she clenched her fists, “Doesn’t that beast have any families? What would he feel if I did the same to him?”

Her words were a slap on Erys’ face. But in truth, he never knew his kind would go out and burn villages during his father’s reign. They were even restricted from going out of the isles. How could she say they only lived to destroy? But a part of what she said was correct, which Erys didn’t realize until now. It’s not just the Draconian Realm who’s suffering from the damages of the war and conflict, but also other humans like her.

“But how did you know it was a Hyborn? Did you see it with your own eyes?” he asked.

“No.”

“How then?”

Mave pulled out a folded paper from her pocket and slammed it against the wooden table. “You might want to explain this.”

Erys took the paper and opened it. But he frowned when he only saw written symbols on every line. “I … I can’t read, Mave.”

She quickly stole the page from his hands and said, “This dragon was spotted flying in my country—a dragon of multiple heads with four wings.”

“How many heads?”

Mave looked at the page. “About twenty.”

Erys felt a twitch in his muscles. His father was the only Hyborn during that time who had over twenty heads. His brother had Seventeen, and Erys himself had ten. They grew more heads as they got older.

“Are you sure about the details on that page?”

“If you don’t trust me, then why don’t you slap this at the face of that sellsword?” Mave said. “Let him read it.”

“It’s fine. I trust you enough in this matter …” Erys pinched his lips after. He didn’t know how to explain it. If this was indeed true, how could his father do such a thing? He was an honorable man who only wanted peace from humans. And because he placed all of his trust in them, he was tricked. With that in thought, Erys remembered what the Lawdras had told him—not to reveal his identity as a Hyborn to any humans. Although Vahlyr already knew, he would pay the sellsword to keep it a secret.

“I hate to say it, but you can’t go to the isles anymore,” he said.

Mave furrowed her brows. “Why not?”

“Because,” Erys couldn’t look at her eyes, “The Hyborns have long been dead.”

“And you think I’d be stupid enough to believe you?”

“No,” Erys said. “I’m only warning you, Mave. The war is coming and all dragons from the isles are flying now to Ormir.”

Mave snorted. “You can’t deceive me with your words, beast.”

It was already dark outside. The lady owner of the inn came to light the fireplace.

When Mave saw it, she stood up from her chair. “I’ve answered enough. We’re done here.”

Erys watched her walk towards the table—his thoughts went back to his father. He knew him very well. His father would never burn people alive. But what if he was wrong? What if his father was not the kind of person Erys thought he was? There was only one way to find out. He would ask Forsyr about what actually happened.

Erys had pity for this human girl. If a hyborn indeed attacked her village, was he the one who would take responsibility as the last of his bloodline?

Then Erys knew—this girl would only encounter the dragons on her way. He already warned her, but she wouldn’t listen. Now, he pitied her more. Mave would find nothing there but only bloodthirsty beasts who would instantly burn her out at first glance.