Secrets in the Fire

An excerpt of a chapter

“And concealed within the darkness of the cavern of fire, was the most malevolent dragon in all of Barbadum, readying himself to either consume, or be vanquished at the hands of this intruder,” growled the dragon.

“A hospitable host would show himself,” the man said.

“Well I am neither hospitable nor a host, and this world no longer cares of formalities. Where as you are a naïve and dimwitted unfortunate soul to have stumbled upon this cave, or are a very clever, though in either case, incredibly brave one; your weapon is not even drawn.”

“Samael... By law of the Black Mountains, a being must reveal oneself when it has been named,” explained the man.

Clad only in a light suit of armour, with his sword still sheathed, the man of bearded chin, and curled locks, stood resolute, without a quiver of fear.

“The man knows my name. Tell me, do you intend to appeal to my better nature to survive my wrath, or have you any treasure to gain passage or exit?”

“I come to ask a favour, O Lord of Dragons, and you shall decide my fate.”

“My, you are exceptionally brave. A favour other than to leave this place unscathed? What have you to bargain with?”

“Your life.”

Samael cackled at the man’s response though it clearly sounded inhuman, like the roar of a fire, and instead of swallowing him whole, he chose to reveal himself, intrigued by the man’s deal. Swooping overhead from the ceiling, he landed before him on all fours and glared at the man. The formidable lizard was a massive specimen, who only seemed to grow as he rose on his hind legs, and his chest expanded, his heart churning with anger, becoming hot and red, though he was adorned with dark grey scales, two broad, bat-like wings, white teeth, and claws, and glowing red eyes. Then he sat, one of his front claws under his snout, where a chin ought to be. “You have my attention. Impress me.”

“I have travelled far, Samael, do not,” the man paused, “trifle with me. Would I be amiss in letting down my guard?”

“You have my word, there will be no tricks. Ask your favour, distant traveller.”

“I have come far, and I have far still to go, on this quest I embark. I won’t deceive you, dragon. War is upon us.”

“War is always upon us my fickle friend. This does not concern my kind.”

“On the contrary, this war concerns us all, men, goblin-folk, creatures small and great… even dragons. A terrible evil intends to lay waste to the land, and everything living.”

“And with my help, you think you can put a damper on the evil almighty’s plans? Do you think the mighty Durlis trembles at the sight of me?” Samael asked, with a crooked grin, fangs protruding from his mouth, where smoke began to billow.

The man went to his satchel, and held an item in his fist, careful not to show it off immediately. “In my hand is a talisman sought by many, few mortals may wield it, and fewer immortals may even touch it. Those that can, possess great power beyond their own for the purposes of evil or good, of which the integrity of their hearts decides.”

“Who are you traveller, to think you are qualified, to bear, or to have even come by this talisman? The most precious the world has ever known?”

“I am Marcus of Naek, a branded thief, murderer, and traitor.”

Samael rose, and menacingly towered over Marcus, stepping forward until his snout was close to his face. As Samael formed a venomous, gnarled smile, smoke swathed from his nostrils, and it was becoming clear to Marcus that the dragon’s fortitude was increasingly threadbare, as he presumed he was preparing to set him alight.

“An interesting proposition...Marcus of Naek, branded thief and so on, however if you do not have any power over me, and you are no sorcerer, and the only other weapon you possess is that rusty old sword, then why should I not take the talisman, and cook you up? How could you possibly kill me?”

Marcus could tell that something fiery was brewing within the dragon, and was now only holding back a powerful fury, as every other word Samael spoke, one could see flames at the back of his throat, and his spit sizzled on the cave floor when it hit the ground.

“You see, I am a hungry dragon, an experienced hunter and killer, a fabled thief, mass murderer, a traitor among gods, and the most malevolent dragon in all of Barbadum. Speak quickly, before you are a stain in my cave.”

Marcus didn’t even flinch at the threat, though he he didn’t hesitate to respond, “Lord of Dragons, I implore you, to take this talisman, and keep it safe until the opportune moment.”

This request, Samael did not expect, so he swallowed his tongue, relaxed his breath, and cautiously inquired, “What game hath you, that you would try to imposture me?”

“This is no game, Samael. See my heart, and know there is honour there. You are one of few to whom I can entrust this relic; so says Tantalé.”

“Do not think me a venerable fool, the daughter of Kartak would not know where to find the talisman, nor would she tell a pathetic creature like you; a legend knows of legends.”

“Indeed, she has yet to capture me, and cannot yet trust me, if I am with her, aligned or maligned.”

“How does this involve me? My patience is wearing thin.”

“No, Samael, I have only just piqued your interest. She told me of the secrets the walls can keep, the walls made by the offspring of Kartak’s tears, and the mountains violent, walls not even the mighty Durlis can eavesdrop.”

“Why would a goddess in human form who has half a mind to kill you reveal all of this? And why would I ever help?”

“Because Tantalé helped you so many years ago.”

Samael thought long and hard, pondering a decision, factoring in what Tantalé had endured to save him, against his misanthropic attitudes toward humanity. “Give me your sword.”

Marcus trusted the old lizard, and so handed it over willingly, and with it, the dragon made a small incision on its hand, before returning the sword, and then offering the same prickly talon to Marcus, “My blood is my word, I will act as keeper and courier to the talisman. None shall hear from me where I safeguard it. Now hand it over.”

The man smiled, and gave Samael the talisman, which looked as dust in his scaly palm.

“Know this, Marcus of Naek,” and he grimaced, “my debt to the daughter of Kartak is paid, but yours to me is only just begun.”

“Call on me, and I shall come.” Marcus walked toward the exit, but called back to the scaly terror, “Be at peace, Lord of Dragons.”

Author's Note

Edited

Reviews

[Victoria Kaer]

Okay, well now I want to know the rest of the story. I liked the language used and your descriptions. You drew me in and I want to know what happens next, and after that, until the end of the tale. (I'm also a sucker for dragons, lol)