The Dragonlord

“There weren't always Dragons in the valley,” old Wilfrin said with a mischievous smile, his voice scratchy after a long day in the fields. He took a long swig of his ale and looked around. “Gather close children, tonight I will tell you the tale of Kavri, the last king of Pelandale.”

“But Mr. Wilfrin,” piped up little Edwin, “We don't have any kings here in the valley!”

“No, no we don't,” Wilfrin replied as a wistful look crossed his face, “Now we have the Dragon. But it wasn't always so, and will not always be.” He finished his drink and continued the story, “Many years ago, Kavri ruled the whole of the valley as king. At the height of his power he built the grand palace of Dakra there, on top of Mount Chamerel.”

The children gasped and all turned to look into the darkness to where the solitary Mount Chamerel rose in the middle of the valley. “There? Why would he build his palace on a cursed mountain?” asked Seferina, her eyes wide. Wilfrin smiled, “Yes Seferina, there on that mountain, though it wasn't always cursed. You see, not long after Kavri finished his palace, the first Dragon came, and according to ancient custom challenged Kavri to a duel. All day they fought in front of the gates, neither able to gain advantage, until at last Kavri grew tired and tripped over a loose paving stone. Wounded, Kavri fled into the palace and slammed the great double doors of his throne room. He was never seen again, though the Dragon returned greatly disturbed by what had happened within.”

Seferina sat bolt upright, all traces of sleep gone as a hand brushed against her shoulder. “Dammit Ned, I nearly had it that time!” Ned laughed, “Dreaming about old Wilfrin again? We've been over this before, Sef. The old man was crazy. There isn't some ancient power hidden here to defeat the Dragon and his enforcers. You said it yourself, we just need to hide out here for a few days before we can escape further up the valley. Anyway, Dremen is almost finished with breakfast, thought you might want some.” "Why didn't you say so earlier?" Sef scrambled to her feet and headed for the door, the smell of fried bacon now wafting into the stale room. Leaving her gear scattered on the floor, she ran for the door. “Race you,” she said with a laugh as she ran down the hallway.

The room where Dremen and Lyda had spent the night was empty when Sef and Ned arrived, breathless, the door hanging open. Small flames still licked the bottom of the pan, and the bacon was burned down to little more than charcoal. “Drem?” she called out softly, “Lyda?” There was no response.

Ned stepped into the room and swore when he saw the ruined bacon, “Dammit Drem, I leave the two of you alone for thirty seconds...” He stopped talking as he realized Drem and Lyda were gone. “Drem? Drem! Where are you?” Ned turned and ran out of the room calling loudly. Sef smiled briefly as his footsteps faded away down the corridor.

Sef squatted next to the fire, pulling the pan away from the flames. It wasn't like Lyda to just wander away. Drem, sure. He was always a little absent minded, but Lyda? She had always been the steady one of the group, keeping them focused on their latest escapade. Something must have drawn them out.

Moving methodically, Sef riffled through their packs, noting that the bedding was rolled up as if they were ready to move. The only door in or out was the one she had just come through, and only one set of footsteps led away through the thick dust in the hallway.

Her heart pounding, Sef followed the footprints away, drawing her knife. Her hair began to stand on end as she neared the end of the hallway, with no sign of Ned, Drem, or Lyda. “Oh shit,” she said, suddenly realizing that the footprints ended in the middle of the hallway. “Ned?” she called out, her voice hushed, “Are you here?” The crash of a closing door echoed down the hallway, and Sef jumped.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to summon the courage to keep moving. “Maybe this place really is cursed,” she muttered before plunging ahead into the dark corridor. As she moved further along, warmth began to emanate from the walls, and she suddenly found herself facing a set of massive doors, the same doors she had seen in her dreams many times, the ones Wilfrin had described. The gilded handles were worn smooth from the touch of countless hands, and there was no longer any trace of dust. She reached out, and the doors opened effortlessly at her touch to reveal a grand chamber full of light. Dozens of people milled around, talking, and at the end of the room was an elevated throne with a regal looking figure seated upon it. Sef stared in awe as they all turned to face her, and the figure on the throne stood up.

From atop the ancient throne, Wilfrin smiled as he looked down as Seferina, the crown on his brow sparkling in the beam of light that illuminated him. “Welcome to Dakra, Seferina. I did tell you that the Dragon didn't always rule here.”