The Cleansing of Dalu'un

It was just before dawn in the forests of Durn. A faint glint of orange sunlight narrowly pierced the top of the highest peak on the mountains of Naradack to the East like a needle poking through an embroidery pattern.

It was a crisp and briskly chilled morning, the kind where the promise of an early October frost can be felt in every whisper of the soft yet distinctly cool breeze.

But prophetic winds were little more than a baby’s breath against the flowing white mane and time-wethered beard of Osiris, Sovereign King of Na’anan’s smallest province of Dalu’un. He was wearing a large hooded cloak and lumbering about in a stilted, stiff manner as if part of a funeral procession.

Normally boisterous and jovial, Osiris loved relating tales of the splendid sport he’d made of some deer, a wolf, or even the occasional small drake if he’d had the proper sized party accompanying him. But this was not the banquet hall of castle Dalu’un.

Shrouded in an unaccustomed silence, Osiris was uneasy. His usually smooth, tan skin was sickly pale, clammy, drained of all color like the specter of death itself had come to claim his soul.

Close behind him, clasped tightly to a loose hem of his cloak was Odessa, the similarly sickly queen of Dalu’un. She too was veiled in a large hooded cloak, the color of which seemed to perfectly blend with the greens and browns of the mushy, moss infested wilderness. Fastened snugly against her back in a small but secure satchel, she carried their young child, Princess Kaisa. A wide eyed and healthy child, not quite 2 years old, she was quiet and content for one so young, given the jostling and cold wilderness hike she was on.

Obscured behind the mountains and claustrophobic canopy, the sun still managed to provide the king and queen just enough light to see the path before them, as well as the last remains of their kingdom’s people slowly marching behind them. Thus all of Dalu’un trudged on in their slow and distinctly cautious march.

But all movement suddenly stopped as several black shadows passed over the party. The entire group stood motionless and silent, without so much as a breath leaving anyone’s mouth. The tension amid the silence was suffocating. Moments felt like days as each soul silently prayed for deliverance.

Osiris gazed up into the sky, his wide eyes never blinking. After a considerable amount of time, the king deemed it safe and made a motion for the party to follow and continue onward.

In a much further off kingdom, farther than anyone in Na’anan had ever conceived, and one separated by the sturdy walls of space and time, Rollin, a fit, young man around 21 years old, sat at his kitchen counter on the old wooden stool in his apartment.

Groggy and saggy eyed, he stared at a bowl full of milk and sweetened corn cereal in front of him. The crackle of dried corn puff balls soaked in freshly poured milk filled the air. Vibrant, synthetic colors of red and blue dye seeped out of the neon colored sugar balls and melted into the milk like a swirling water color canvas.

As Rollin raised the first fluorescent spoonful to his mouth, an abrupt and offbeat knock came at his door.

Rollin set the spoon down gently with an exhausted sigh, then begrudgingly made his way to the door, the knocking persisting all the while. The knocker seemed to be struggling to settle on a proper cadence. First 3 short, sporadic knocks, then a brief pause, and a final thud with the back of a fist for an awkward 4th and final knock.

Swinging the door open before the next cumbersome tempo, Rollin looked down to find Jake, the young polynesian boy from a few doors down, standing in his doorway. The boy was looking at the ground, playing with his hands the way children do when asking their parents for a new toy or candy.

“Um,” the boy stammered, then paused for what felt like an eternity.

Rollin struggled to hold in his frustration, as well as his laughter at the speech pattern he’d come to know all too well from the neighbor boy. Tempering his impatience, Rollin spoke to the boy in his best kindergarten teacher’s voice.

“What is it, Jake?” He asked with synthetic brightness.

The boy looked up, meeting eyes with Rollin for only a split second before looking down again.

“Um,” He stammered, pausing again, then through sheer force of will, he rapidly finished his message. “Mom was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner.”

Rollin turned and looked back into the kitchen. The bowl of sweet corn cereal still sat on the countertop. The sound of the crackling had dissipated, signaling that the once crispy, crunchy cereal had now turned into a softened mush. Rollin’s stomach moaned an audible sound like the growl of a feral alley cat. He scratched the back of his head, smiled, and let out a soft mix of a laugh and a sigh.

“Sure, buddy. Tell your mom I'll plan on being there. What time should I come over?”

The boy looked at Rollin with a blank, wide eyed stare.

“You know what, why don’t you just tell your mom I’ll be there around 6 o'clock?” Rollin quickly interjected.

Jake’s face quickly turned from blank befuddlement to excited satisfaction. Enthusiastically he nodded his head before sprinting back to his mother’s apartment.

Rollin smiled and shook his head, then walked back into the kitchen. He dumped the soggy bowl of cereal into the garbage disposal on one side of the sink, then hit the bowl with a short splash of water from the tap. He then placed the bowl atop the mound of dishes piled up on the other side of the sink.

He walked to the fridge and opened the door. About a tablespoon of butter sat crudely wrapped in its tattered casing on the upper shelf of the refrigerator door. Lining the rest of the door shelves were half empty bottles and jars of condiments, unopened fast food sauce packets, and a tiny bit of homemade jelly Jake’s mom had given to Rollin for Christmas.

The only thing on the larger shelves in the fridge was a medium tupperware container with the words “kalua pork’ written on the lid in black permanent marker. About a serving remained, so Rollin reached in, took out the container and popped the top off. The pork was a slimy green color with a smell like dead fish stuffed with wet garbage. Rollin resisted the urge to vomit and quickly sealed the container and tossed it in the nearby waste bin.

Back within the forest of Durn, amid the cramped and maze-like trail, Osiris held out his hand to his wife behind him. She responded, tightly squeezing his massive bear-like paws with both of her hands.

“Perhaps we should rest, my love? The people surely grow weary.” Odessa said in a belabored whisper.

Osiris glanced over his shoulder and paused. He turned, facing his wife, then taking her by both hands, smiled and let out a small, suppressed laugh through his nose, his breath visible in the morning air. Osiris turned toward the caravan of people not far behind, dragging themselves along the frost kissed ground.

“Perhaps you are right, my love.” He said with a melancholy smile. “ They certainly could use it. After all, the capital is only another 2 days away, and the dragons are far behind us now.”

Osiris waved his arms in an exaggerated motion above his head until he garnered the attention of the group. Without a word, he signaled for his people to sit, gently lowering his hands like an orchestra conductor. They responded graciously, though still maintained absolute silence.

“Is the capital truly that close, Osiris?” Odessa asked, shifting Kaisa’s satchel from her back to her front. She cradled the child as she sat cross legged upon the ground. Looking into the baby’s eyes, she gently stroked her wispy hair and soft, smooth cheek.

Osiris, still standing and facing the way of the capital, took out a piece of dried boar meat from a pouch around his waist and bit a chunk off. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly.

“Yes, possibly closer.” He said.

“Then this really isn’t a dream.” Odessa said.

“What do you mean?” Asked Osiris.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, but Dalu’un is truly gone. All our memories, all we built, all that we fought for was swallowed up in flames. We’ve lost everything to those monsters.”

Osiris squatted down in front of Odessa and tenderly placed his hand on Kaisa’s head as she rested in her mothers arms. Osiris looked into Odessa’s eyes, stroking her cheek with his other hand.

“Not everything.” He said through staggered breath.

Suddenly, the sound of a low growl followed by abrupt movement through the brush sent a shudder through the entire camp. Osiris turned to the caravan to see two young wolf cubs dash through the concourse. A loud shriek shattered the silence that had been so painstakingly kept.

An enormous wolf, accompanied by a sizable pack, had sprung onto the unsuspecting and weary travelers. Standing atop an unconscious man from the company, the colossal alpha wolf had clawed a horrific gash into his throat.

Upon seeing this, the caravan of Dalu’un scattered into erratic chaos, the pack of wolves ravenously pursuing close behind them.

Osiris rushed through the crowd, nearly being swallowed up in the pandemonium as people crashed over him like ocean waves. Brandishing his large dagger from under his cloak, Osiris roared like a lion:

“Stand your ground! Defend your families!” He shouted.

With the cry of their leader echoing in their ears, men and women began unsheathing their own daggers and swords. Several people, armed with bows and arrows, began scaling the trees and perched themselves, readying to fire at the perfect moment.

Zipping sounds of arrows quickly followed. The wounded whimpers and moans of wolves' throats being pierced filled the forest air.

Osiris made his way to the alpha. Hunched over and tightly clutching his dagger, it was clear for anyone to see, man or beast, that he was challenging the alpha to combat.

Dismounting its unfortunate victim, the beast glared at the king with a venomous snarl, flashing its razor sharp teeth.

The two circled each other, as the screams of frightened mothers and howls of dying wolves surrounded them like a symphony of slaughter.

But as Osiris readied himself for battle, the ground beneath him started to quiver. The wolf looked past Osiris for a brief moment before sprinting off with vehement haste.

“The wolves flee my lord!” An archer shouted from the trees.

The dwindling pack was indeed fleeing, but not from the king nor his caravan. Something of immense power was imminent as the trees trembled and their lodging birds made haste for safety far from the forest of Durn.

The eardrum shattering sound of splintering timber echoed like cannon blasts. The trees of the forest toppled over like dominoes as a looming giant approached the caravan with all the grace and delicacy of a volcanic eruption.

Nearly the height of an archers tower, a mighty Dragon stood glaring with piercing yellow eyes at Osiris. Its serpentine scales held a grayish blue color that glistened with a terrible yet mesmerizing glow. Its claws, each the size of a large kite shield, dug into the solid earth as easily as a child sinking their fingers into sand.

“So this is where we find the great king, Osiris?” The dragon spoke in a low, gutturally frightening tone.

The people of Dalu’un began to scatter again before a mighty cry split the air.

“Hold your ground!” Osiris boldly shouted aloud.

Osiris stood firm, unsheathing a large sword from around his waist as Odessa rushed to his side. Before she could say anything, the king extended his arm in front of her and ushered her behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he spoke to her with an unmistakable firmness:

“Take Kaisa and make your way to the capital.”

Before Odessa could protest, the king stopped her. Turning to face her, their eyes met with an unfathomable sorrow. The queen's tears held a thousand words, but none that she could speak in only a moment's time.

“Take anyone else you can with you. Dalu’un will live on, but not through us. We shall meet our end as warriors united in honor, not as cowards divided in retreat. Go, we shall provide you all the time that we can.”

The king and queen tightly embraced each other one final time. Osiris then pressed his lips against his young daughter's head, leaving one of the few tears he'd ever shed in his life on her tender cheek before she and her mother departed.

Elsewhere, Rollin peered into the box of sweet corn cereal. Reaching in he found less than a handful of deep red and blue puffs and a fair smattering of colorful, dry, cereal dust at the bottom. He put the box up to his lips and emptied it into his mouth, then, tilting his head back further, he drizzled the last few drops of milk left in the carton after it. He strained as he swallowed down the sad, scanty meal.

As he navigated his way to the couch, Rollin was interrupted just before he had the chance to sit down by a sudden sensation that quivered through his entire body. He heard a faint whisper of a voice he did not recognize, but whose query he knew all too well.

“I summon thy aid.” The voice whispered, echoing ever so softly.

A gust of wind filled the room, rustling the scattered books and papers loosely strewn about the apartment. Bright runic symbols appeared out of thin air in front of Rollin. Swirling together into a hypnotic blur, they then expanded into a large opening in the form of a circular, swirling doorway.

Rollin sighed heavily and glanced at his watch. The time showed 11:00am.

“I can make it back in time.” He quietly said; a shaky dose of skepticism in his voice.

Back in the wilderness of Durn, the once lush and vibrant forest that pulsated with life, had now been reduced to nothing more than a scorching wasteland. Muted gray ash swirled in the air. Flames erupted in violent tornadoes within the blackened and hollowed out tree trunks.

Bodies of men, women, and children were scattered about, either charred by the flames or crushed under fallen debris. Carnage had swept across the land, turning the once peaceful scenery into one only fit for the underworld.

Among the sounds of crackling flames, a heart rending wail rang out as clear as a crack of thunder. The cry echoed again and again, calling out for someone, anyone who could hear, but not one mortal soul was left to answer in that desolate forest.

Kaisa, princess of Dalu’un, barely beyond her first birthday, sat stranded among this sea of flames. Constrained inside the boar skin satchel still encumbering her small body, she struggled to rub her tear filled eyes.

She continued to howl as unbeknownst to her, a looming predator was leering with sharp piercing eyes. From behind the thick black smoke, the murderous dragon bellowed out a low laugh.

“Now, princess, don’t cry.” It hissed with baleful glee. “After all, you’re the whole reason I’m here.”

The dragon opened its mouth, but before the beast could snatch the child up, at near light speed, a figure out of the shadows plucked the child from certain doom, then vaulted back a fair distance from the dragon.

The savage serpent let out a frustrated snort like a raging bull. black smog billowed from its nostrils as thick as industrial smoke stacks. The mighty behemoth drew in a deep breath, gathering scorching hot air into its lungs.

But rather than retreating, this stranger braced himself, turning his shoulder down and away from the dragon, and shielding the child in his muscular frame.

Seeing this as a challenge the dragon did not hesitate any further and exhaled with all the force of a hurricane gust. The blast of fire showered over the two in a white hot blaze, disintegrating every living thing in its path without so much as a twig left smoldering.

Yet still standing among the nuclear hot blast zone was this mysterious stranger. Stoic and defiant, he held the princess of Dalu’un in his arms, unharmed and unscathed. Kaisa, having ceased her wailing, clenched her tiny hands and arms tightly to the stranger.

As the refraction of light from the heat subsided, the dragon leaned in closer to make sense of this impossibility. The stranger’s armor was fashioned after the manner of the chimera of legends, with one shoulder plate in the form of a dragon's head, the other a goat’s, and the helmet acting as the lion’s head with a dazzling, flowing, red mane.

He was also equipped with sturdy bracers that measured the length of his forearms, ornate shin plated boots, a bright shining chest plate, and a beautiful, thick fabric shawl draped around his neck. Etched upon his chestplate, in the lower left region was a mystifying symbol. An intricate ring-shaped pattern encircling a swirling flame overlaid with strange characters.

The dragon’s eyes grew larger. It violently drew back its head, as frightened as someone discovering a spider under their pillow.

“That mark!” The dragon exclaimed. “You are a Tah-Orah. But how is it possible?”

The stranger stood motionless, silently staring back at the dragon. Holding fast to the child in his right arm he made his way to a large boulder a few feet away. As he knelt down he popped off his goat head shoulder plate and placed it on the ground, then gently nestled the sniffling girl into it.

Like a nervous child the dragon shifted its feet about, the ground trembling with each step, as the stranger walked back toward it.

“Unless you were summoned by someone, but who?” The dragon asked.

“I was about to ask you the same question.” Came the armored stranger’s sharp reply.

“Please,” the dragon whimpered, “had I known of your coming I would have…”

“You know, if I had a nickel for everytime I heard something like that, I might just be able to keep my fridge stocked.” The stranger said, clearing his throat and folding his arms. “But, I don’t think I’ll even be getting leftovers now. My summoner must have managed to get me here before you killed them, and now, thanks to you, I’m stuck here until I’m summoned by someone else.”

The dragon pushed back from the armored stranger, digging its claws into the dirt and posturing up like a large cat turning its nose up at something fowl.

“Please, forgive me, great one, I can help you find another summoner!” The dragon begged.

The stranger was silent, his arms folded, staring at the dragon like a disapproving parent. He held his wrist out in front of him, looking intently at it as though something important was there. The dragon again shifted its feet looking like it was anxious to relieve itself.

“Due north of here is the capital city of Na’anan. There is a group of powerful summoners there known as the Ethereal Order. Their otherworldly champions are all that has stopped the dragons from reclaiming this world. Surely they can help you return home!”

The stranger was excruciatingly silent. He stared at the dragon unflinchingly before looking down intently at his wrist again.

“A day's journey north, you say? The stranger asked.

“Yes, great one!” The dragon said, bowing his head and neck low to the ground.

The stranger walked back to where he had left the child and took her into his arms, then reattached his shoulder plate. Turning and heading North, he nestled Kaisa comfortably close to his body. But behind him, the dragon smiled with malicious joy as he opened his titanic jaws and inched slowly closer until he was over the stranger’s head.

With one fluid motion, faster than a strike of lightning, the stranger lept, twisting his body and slamming his left leg against the dragon's massive temple. The tremendous force of impact resonated louder than a sonic boom.

The dragon's huge body collapsed to the ground with a thunderous crash. The impact created an enormous gust of wind, stirring up a torrential storm of dust and hot ash.

The stranger touched down on the ground following the impact. He started in the direction of the capital city, but stopped when a deep laugh pricked his ears. Low, malevolent laughter rattled out of the fallen dragon’s lungs.

“Fool.” Grumbled the dragon.

The stranger stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“The beacon has been lit,” the dragon continued, “my masters are coming. I was merely a scout, but they shall be the ones to conquer this world.”

The mighty beast drew in a deep breath before painfully releasing one final message with it:

“The Ascended Ones.”

The sound of slow, heavy, clomping footfalls echoed in the distance. The stranger turned to see three vague shadows approaching, their figures obscured by the refracted light and thick smoke.

All that was clear were three pairs of eyes glowing bright red, piercing through the smoke and debris as clear as stars in the night sky. As they grew closer, the stranger, ever cautious, shielded Kaisa in his arms from the approaching enemies.

As their features became more clear, the figures stopped. Three large men stood like statues made of iron. Their face and body structure appeared human, but the skin visible around their arms was dragon-like, covered in dark, thick scales. All three wore spiked shoulder and chest plates forged from jagged, glistening, obsidian. Their eyes, cold, red, and haunting as a blood moon.

The largest of the three stepped forward, crossed his arms and glared through squinted eyes. He stood silent for a moment, then roared with a mighty laugh that caused the very air to shutter.

“We are blessed on this day, brothers. Not only have we secured victory over Dalu’un, but we are honored with meeting one of the great Tah-Orah.” The man spoke. He paused, then revealed a smile full of razor sharp teeth. “Or perhaps he prefers Rollin?”

Having been discovered, Rollin felt a cold flash run through his body. He secured the child in one arm and with the other arm raised a clenched his fist at the enemy.

“Who are you, and how do you know that name?” Rollin demanded.

“Perhaps it is easy to forget among all your summons to countless worlds, but we will never forget the man who slew our master.” The man said.

Rollin ground his teeth with a loud and aggressive sound like a knife on a chalkboard.

“Arch Dragons.” He said in an exacerbated tone.

“Now, if you'll be so kind as to hand over the child, the leveredge she’ll provide is vital to our conquest of Na’anan.” The leader spoke, beckoning with his hand.

“I don’t think so.” Rollin replied in a gravelly voice.

The leader chuckled then drew in an exaggerated deep breath. Rollin’s eyes lit up as he quickly hunched over, bracing himself and the child.

A powerful flame exploded from the Leader’s mouth as Rollin struggled to hold his ground. The blast was tremendous, immeasurably more powerful than the previous dragon’s. So intense was the heat that even Rollin’s resilient skin and armor began to absorb a painful amount of damage from the attack before it suddenly stopped.

Rollin breathed heavily. The searing, blistering, burn from the blast felt like someone had dumped boiling oil onto his whole left side.

But before he had time to think of the pain, the two other dragons closed in on Rollin like mutts on a table scrap. With Kaisa still held tight in his arms, Rollin whirled round in a cyclone spin, landing a thunderous kick on both arch dragons that sent them hurdling off in a concussive stupor. Landing on the ground, Rollin faced the leader.

“We can end this before it gets worse, pal. I just wanna get home.” Said Rollin brashly, glancing at the watch under his bracer: 3:00pm.

The leader folded his arms again. He chuckled lightly before throwing back his head in hysterical laughter. Frantically turning about, Rollin looked in all directions, but all around him was a choking polluted haze.

Small, faint glints of red were all that was visible, but slowly, like specters moving among the shadows of night, a mass concourse of umbrous figures could be seen moving closer. Each with the same vicious, red eyes and jagged obsidian armor.

Like a vicious pack of hyenas, they collectively lunged for Rollin and the child, but with nimble reflexes, he evaded with a springing leap skyward. Ascending into the air, Rollin took flight, leaving the dragons to look on in bewilderment.

“Don’t just stand there!” The leader shouted. “You can fly too, you idiots!”

The dragons nodded, pushing and shoving each other as they took off into the sky after Rollin and Kaisa.

Among the lofty clouds above Na’anan, Rollin turned facing up to the sky. Looking back he saw the vicious band of killers not far behind.

“Hold on, little one.” He said, clutching the baby closer to his chest.

Reaching with his free arm above his head, a red aura began to glow around Rollin’s hand. He stopped mid air, let out a battle cry, and with a perpetual motion swung his arm like a sword was in his hand. A thin, crescent moon-shaped beam of light shot from his hand and across the sky, slicing clean through his enemies as easily as a samurai’s katana slices bamboo.

As pieces of arch dragon plummeted to the ground, Rollin turned about and increased the speed of his flight. As he and the baby soared through the sky, Rollin glanced down at his watch once again, but before he could make out the time, a sudden force fastened around his ankle. All of his momentum was halted in a single instant as Kaisa was flung from his arms.

Rollin flailed, reaching in vain to grab hold of the child, but whatever force held fast to his ankle would not relent. All time seemed to slow to a crawl as Kaisa flew away like a feather in the wind.

Then, like a shark surfacing from the deep to consume its unsuspecting prey, The Arch Dragon leader rose up through the sky, gingerly catching the child in his arms.

“Nooo!” Rollin cried with outstretched arms for the girl.

The leader smiled with a kind of elation only the foulest demons of hell could as two soldiers took hold of Rollin on each side. Like a wild animal, Rollin violently thrashed about, struggling to break free.

“To think that all of our hopes and ambitions would culminate in one glorious day.” The leader said, amid laughter. “Dalu’un is ours, as is the life of the murderer of our master.”

He looked down at Kaisa and ran the back of his razor sharp nails softly across the baby’s cheek. The leader then floated closer to Rollin, playfully opening and closing his hand. He stopped, practically nose to nose with Rollin, then said in a cringe inducing whisper:

“Farewell, Rollin. Champion of Tah-Orah.”

Unable to break free of the grasp of the dragons, Rollin felt the sharp claws of the leader puncture through his abdomen like hot iron through butter. All the breath vanished from his lungs, leaving Rollin powerless to speak as his entire body went limp.

The dragons released the lifeless body as it plummeted toward the earth at breakneck speed. But as they gazed down to relish in their adversary’s demise, the dragons were interrupted by the shining of a brilliant light around the child princess Kaisa.

Runic symbols appeared before the child as the leader held her with outstretched arms in bewilderment. A rippling spiral doorway appeared below Rollin, but only for a brief second before both disappeared without a trace.

All was silent as the dragons looked up at one another.

“She is a summoner. Keeping her alive could put us in danger.” Said one dragon.

The leader, still holding the whimpering girl with outstretched arms, gazed upon her and smiled his demonic smile once again.

“You saw the Tah-Orah fall. She’s only ensured that his corpse will be properly buried in his home world. No, I think this girl's power will come to be a great asset to us in our war against the humans, especially the Ethereal Order.”

Rollin could see only through a nauseating haze when he finally awoke within his apartment. Clutching his stomach, wincing and grunting in agony, he struggled up to his feet.

“It was her.” Rollin exclaimed, a lump forming in his throat. “She must have been my summoner all along. I was supposed to protect her, but all I could think of was getting home.”

Rollin turned to see a tupperware container on the small coffee table in the middle of his living room. Examining it, he noticed a small sticky note attached that read:

“Rollin, it looks like you must have got called in to work again, so I had Jake bring you the leftovers. -Carmen.”

Rollin picked up the container and screamed as he threw it across the room. Kalua pork splattered against the wall and sloped onto the floor in a mushy heap. The proud warrior fell to his knees, removed his helmet and held it in his lap. With eyes and wounds that burned deep, Rollin wept in sullen agony. Exhausted, empty, and alone.