The Third Red 1: The Enemy Within

“Mother! No! No! Noooo!” Eric screamed, hugging her body tightly as tears flowed from his eyes like rivers.

“Oh Margery!” Rubara sobbed. “My little Margery!”

Through his tears, Eric casting a glance ahead at her, he saw her long neck fall, her head slowly turning to the ground in sadness. Both of them sobbed uncontrollably. Then Eric felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the fat man in the purple robe who’d seemed to appear out of nowhere. This man had teleported them away from Dragoran. The man’s face was also filled with grief as tears fell from his eyes as well.

“I’m sorry, Eric.”

The fat man’s words did nothing to lessen the horrible feeling in Eric’s chest, as though something had been ripped out of him. He sniffled then asked.

“Who-who are you?”

“I’m your uncle. Chosan Yagaro.”

Eric was silent. He’d heard of his Uncle Chosan. Margery had described him as cheerful, fat and lazy, not a great warrior, but a good man nonetheless. He certainly was fat, though he looked miserable right now, but his starting tears were nothing compared to the rivers already flowing down Eric’s cheeks.

“I failed. Again!” Rubara lamented. “I couldn’t save Margery just like I couldn’t save her parents!”

Eric looked at his grandmother, his misery turning to disbelief for a moment. She’d been no match for that monster. She’d been bigger yet she couldn’t defeat it. He’d always imagined her as a sort of impenetrable shield that could always protect him, but now it felt as though that shield around him had been shattered like glass. He felt utterly weak, he hadn’t been able to do anything. He alone could have slain Corgo with his rare sorcery, and he hadn’t even been able to move. He couldn’t help his mother or Rubara when they needed him the most.

There was silence, then Chosan took hold of Eric’s shoulder.

“Come Eric. Let’s go. I can show you to your room,” he said gently.

“No! I’m not going anywhere!” Eric yelled in misery and anger through his tears. “Leave me alone!”

A bit of red energy began to sparkle around Eric.

Chosan’s eyes widened. “Eric calm down!”

Calm down? Calm down? Eric had just lost his mother! How was he supposed to calm down? The energy pulsating from his sorcery in his emotional state continued to crackle around him at an increased rate then suddenly burst, sending Eric, Chosan, and Margery’s body off of Rubara’s back. Eric grunted as he landed on the ground. At least the energy dissipated, but Eric still sobbed as he crawled over to where Margery’s body had fallen.

Chosan struggled to his feet and tried to walk over to Eric, but a massive leg blocked him.

“I think you better leave Chosan!” Rubara said.

“Rubara! I-I merely wish to comfort Eric!” Chosan said.

“Comfort him?” Rubara snapped through her tears. “You presume that you who have only been with him for a moment now after years can comfort him?”

Under the sad but furious glare of the red dragon, Chosan backed away. “I-I guess not.”

“I’ll see to him,” Rubara said. “Go.”

Chosan nodded sadly. “Alright. I’ll leave him with you. But let me take… Margery’s body so we can at least give her a funeral.”

Rubara looked at him. Eric wanted to refuse but her words rid him of that desire.

“Very well. She should be given…” she paused. “…whatever respect you can give her.”

Chosan slowly took Margery’s lifeless form in his arms as Eric watched. His uncle made his way to a bridge nearby that lead to a castle. It was Eric’s first time seeing a real castle. He now took in their surroundings which he’d been blinded to in his misery. It was night now, cooler than Eric ever remembered it being on Dragoran. Above them, Eric saw the light of a full moon. That was something he rarely glimpsed living in a cave which he kept to at night. The stars were clearly visible, they would have been a beautiful sight if not for this being such a sad night.

Looking at the castle across the bridge, Eric guessed it must be his ancestral home. The Yagaro castle of Soyagone. He could make out four towers in the light of the moon above a wall of stone. He and Rubara were on a small island surrounded by a lake. From his lessons on Dragoran, Eric recalled Margery mentioning Soyagone had a small bit of land on its north side across a bridge where the family dragon would live. It also served as a Nature Shrine, a place constructed within a city to honor the force that gave… and took life. Trees were everywhere, along with statues of animals. A stone stag stood nearby, with a tiger crouched behind it as though about to pounce. Wolves with heads raised as they howled, a doe licking its fawn. Seeing that made Eric jealous of the stone statues. The fawn would forever be with its mother, for no tiger or other predator would attack them.

Rubara lay down next to him, creating a crunching sound on the ground as she did so. Eric cried as he rested his head against the dragon’s stomach and sobbed. She put her wing over him protectively like a blanket. It shielded him from the cool night air. It wasn’t too cold right now. It felt rather pleasant, or it might have if not the emotional state Eric was in. It was colder than on Dragoran, which was the same year-round, but now Eric would taste the different seasons of Summer, Fall, Winter, and Spring.

Time passed, the sun rose in the morning, but it brought no joy for Eric. Within hours the air warmed, hitting his bare skin with almost as much heat as on Dragoran. At least it wasn’t humid and as wet. But he still had to crawl under a tree for shade. He lay there silently. In the distance to the east, he saw something he’d wanted to see for so long. Sortar, the immense white walled city where he’d been born. He was here at last, but it was not the happy experience he’d thought it would be.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to come here on Rubara’s back. They would fly across the Soron Sea, over the wall of Dragon Watch, and to Sortar. They would arrive happily. Instead, they’d teleported here as Margery got hit with Corgo’s spear. There was nothing happy about this.

Eric had wanted to meet other people. He wanted to have friends to laugh with. Now he couldn’t see himself laughing for a long time. His mother would never see him get married like she always wanted. She was gone, and everything seemed dark and dreary now.

Eric repeated what had happened in his head. It had gone by so quickly, maybe only a minute. He’d woken up to his mother standing over him, she’d teleported them into Rubara’s saddle, the dragon took off, Corgo came after them. Chosan gathered sorcery, as did Corgo. The bat threw his sorcery spear at Chosan and Margery took the blow!

Eric had never felt so helpless. He hadn’t been able to move. He hadn’t been able to help his mother. Hours passed until night came again. Eric’s stomach rumbled, he hadn’t eaten all day, but he didn’t care. It matched his feelings before he finally felt a wave of exhaustion and couldn’t stay awake any longer. He fell asleep and dreamed a terrible dream.

He saw his mother standing a few feet away. Eric’s mouth fell open and he felt immense joy, but it faded as he saw her face. Margery looked at him with an expression that he would never have thought to see directed at him. Hatred.

“Why? Why couldn’t you stop him?”

“Mother.” Eric reached out.

“You didn’t take your training seriously. You thought you didn’t need it,” Margery said. “I needed you to be strong. But you failed.”

“Mother!” he called again.

Eric was so close to her, but just as he was about to reach her, she vanished.

“Mother!” Eric screamed.

Then darkness enveloped him and the scene changed.

Eric saw the bat that claimed his mother’s life. Corgo flew on his leathery wings toward a dark fortress. It stood tall and menacing, made of black stone with several spiked towers at the top. The rituals performed by the Demorians to summon demons from the world of Panarus affected the atmosphere here. Thunderstorms were frequent around the island. Rain hit Corgo’s skin, a lightning bolt illuminated the air with a crackle.

Corgo looked down upon the island of Demoria. He saw his minions, the demons of Panarus and their human worshippers, the Demorians. From up here, he could see all different kinds of demons. The imps, tiny pests that relied on overwhelming numbers to swarm their enemies. The Brute Demons, large monsters that relied on brute strength, much bigger than humans, but not quite as big as a dragon. The brutes came in various shapes and used different sorts of magic. Then there were the Winged Demons, smaller than the brutes but more maneuverable and sporting wings on their backs. Others existed as well like fire and shadow demons. Lastly, there were the Great Winged Demons, which were equal to dragons in both size and power. They had more strength than the brutes and massive wings to carry them. Those served as the most intimidating leviathan in Corgo’s forces after himself. But their size was but a show, they were insects compared to him.

Corgo suddenly noticed something. In the sky were only three Great Winged Demons! There were usually ten or more! His eyes widened at the realization.

“What has become of this place in my absence?” he growled, flapping his wings harder to increase his speed. He headed straight for the largest tower in the middle of the square fortress. Within moments he flew through the opening in the top.

“I have returned!” he declared, his voice echoing off the walls.

Corgo looked down toward the floor of his chamber. There was no bed, for he always slept hanging from the ceiling. He soon heard armored footsteps making their way upstairs. Corgo landed on the floor and waited for his underlings to come into view. The sound of footfalls soon stopped, yet Corgo saw no one. He waited then yelled. “Why have you stopped? Get up here now!”

No response came. Corgo snarled and walked down the staircase nearby. In a few turns he saw them, a Demorian Soron Knight, a sorcerer in dark robes with a white trim, two soldiers with spears, and two slaves, they all stood still as statues.

“What is the matter with all of you?” Corgo asked in a menacing voice. “After all these years you simply stand around?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Corgo realized what happened. His demonic presence had frozen his minions like it normally would his enemies. His minions used to be immune to this ability of his because they were near him all the time. But after nearly fourteen years their immunity was gone.

Corgo approached the nearest soldier.

“Hmm. You better move by the time I count to three. One,” he paused, raising a clawed finger. “Two.”

The soldier’s eyes widened in fear as Corgo lifted a second finger. If he’d managed to move more, Corgo might have spared him.

“Three!”

Corgo moved fast, in the blink of an eye he seized the soldier. Throwing him against the ground, caving in his horned helmet and crushing his skull. Blood poured out onto the stairs as Corgo moved to the next soldier and counted again. Fortunately for this soldier, the Demorian Knight managed to move and speak.

“Lord… Lord Corgo. We’ve… been waiting… for your return.” The knight struggled for a moment but removed his helm to reveal his face. He was an octopus-like man with eight small tentacles protruding from all over his face. He carried not one, but four arming swords. One at either hip, and two on his back.

“Ah, Gowy.”

Corgo recognized the fish man as a member of his elite fighting force, the Century Terrors. Gowy had lived for over two centuries by drinking demon blood. The number two hundred was painted red on his black armor, making his years of service. Not many managed to survive so long. They were often killed in battle against the Sorcerer Kingdom and its allies.

“It is good to see you again, Lord Corgo,” the sorcerer said, now managing to speak as well.

Corgo looked at him, noticing the arms of his robe hung limp as though there were no limbs running through them. A hum of magic sounded as the sorcerer lowered his hood using only the magic from his eyes. His human head was bald but he wore a headpiece covered in onyxes. His eyes were in sight sorcery mode, black with a single yellow open circle inside them, and bloody within the white sclera around the iris. On the chest of his robe, he bore a number as well. One hundred ninety, he had lasted almost as long as Gowe.

“Noculus! My faithful one! Good to see you, my friends!” Corgo said, putting on a ‘friendly’ smile. “But what sort of state has my army come to in my absence? I saw only a few large demons flying about in the sky!”

Noculus bowed. “Oh, greatest of great ones. We had a… a betrayal. After you disappeared, some of our men tried to seize power away from the demons and take it for themselves.”

“What?” Corgo exclaimed and growled. “Usurpers?”

“I’m afraid so. They were quickly defeated though,” Gowy said. “We forced them off the island. We also sent battalions out looking for information on where you were. Many of them were slaughtered or captured.”

Corgo put a clawed hand to his chin. “How many do we still have?”

“Fifty thousand altogether,” Noculus said.

Corgo growled thoughtfully. “Not enough. If the Sorcerer Kingdom were to gather all its people, they would outnumber us. We need more great demons as well!”

“If I may, I have made several women pregnant recently, I would gladly sacrifice the newborns when they emerge!” Noculus said with a sadistic grin. “That should summon some great ones!”

Corgo smiled at his head torturer. Noculus was a groveler, loyal only to him and the demons of Panarus. He reveled in causing pain to others, even the sacrifice of his own pathetic brood for his gods was appealing to him.

“Yes, that will do nicely. Now, summon Laman! Have him order raiding parties to capture more to join our army!”

Noculus hesitated. “My lord… Laman was one of the traitors. Or to be precise, he led the attempted coup.”

“What?” Corgo exclaimed again.

Laman Serfier, a human who’d served in the Demorian army for over four centuries had betrayed him! Corgo had trusted him… he’d been a useful servant.

“Did he die for his foolish attempt?” Corgo asked.

“He escaped,” Noculus said. “He is hard to kill for good.

That was true. Corgo thought. Laman could only be killed under certain conditions.

“And he took your sword as well,” Gowy said.

Corgo’s eyes widened. “What? My sword? MY… sword? Arrgh!”

He screamed in fury and charged at the nearby slaves who also screamed… but in terror. They could do nothing against him. In an instant they fell to the ground as he killed them with his bare hands just as he had the soldier earlier.

“I will speak with our king. He will decide what course of action we take.”

“Yes… greatest of the great ones!” Noculus said before bowing.

Corgo growled as he began to climb down the steps. Gowy, Noculus, and the last remaining soldier trailed behind him. At the bottom lay the throne room. It was filled with a long line of columns, Corgo passed several Demorians and demons who froze when he came close. At the back of the room, just before the steps leading up to the throne stood a pedestal supporting a large black stone. Corgo approached the stone and put a hand on it. It lit with red light at the center, and a pair of large red eyes with black circles appeared. The eyes of King Zaro.

“Corgo.”

The bat bowed, dropping to one knee. “My king. I have returned.”

The red and black eyes of the king blinked. For a moment there was silence, then Zaro said, “I expected you to return with the next sorcerer of my kind in a short time. But it has been fourteen years. Twice you attempted to acquire him in that time… and twice you failed. My most capable and loyal servant who has ruled in my absence.”

Corgo took a breath. “Sorcerers got in the way, my king.”

A laugh sounded through the throne room. “Yes. Sorcerers that couldn’t kill you yet still prevented you from acquiring the one thing I need to escape from this world between life and death. No matter. I believe there is a seed you planted in him. Well, I shall help it grow. Soon the darkness will fester in that good heart.”

The stone glowed bright red as Zaro performed his magic. The last thing Eric saw was a vision of himself asleep.

***

Eric awoke to someone calling his name.

“Lord Eric! Wake up!” a voice called.

For a moment, Eric saw nothing but Rubara’s wing as it provided a makeshift shelter. When his dragon grandmother lifted her wing, Eric saw a Soron Knight standing there with a servant boy at his side. The knight wore sorsteel armor, shining in the rising sun. A green cape hung over his shoulders; his face masked by a closed helm with a small metal fist at the top. The face of the helm bore the Yagaro shield on the front along with eyeholes. Protruding from the fist at the top was a green plume that Eric knew marked this knight as a Captain. The knight, whoever he was, carried a spear in one hand and a rectangular shield in the other, a sword and dagger hung at his belt. The servant boy carried a folded robe and a pair of brown boots.

“Good morrow Lord Eric,” the knight said.

Lord Eric? Oh right, the Yagaros are a Lordship. Eric thought.

He was the lawful heir to this castle as his father had been the first born under his grandfather. Chosan ruled it for now, at least until Eric came of age. But that was only two years away, and Eric had been gone from this place for nearly fourteen years, he didn’t know how to rule a castle or command an army or anything like that.

“Who are you?” Eric asked with a tired and sad yawn.

“I am Sir Orvalor Presteeg, First Captain of the Yagaro Guard, and your Great-Uncle,” the knight said.

Eric recognized the name. Sir Orvalor had lost his family when he was young and journeyed to Sortar where he eventually married Myra Yagaro, the sister of Eric’s grandfather Dosan. If Eric recalled correctly, he had two remaining sons, one of which was a bastard born out of wedlock.

“I’m here to bring you to the Great Hall for the morning meal.” Orvalor continued.

He spoke in a raspy voice that made him sound old. Of course, if he was around during Eric’s grandfathers time, he would have to be old, probably sixty or older by now. He was either really lucky or really strong to survive that long in the life of a knight.

“Go away!” Eric snapped in a mixture of annoyance and sadness, his voice breaking as he sat up and buried his face in Rubara’s side.

“Young lord, you haven’t eaten in two days. Please come with me.”

Eric heard metal clad feet coming towards him. The knight was certainly brave coming so close to a dragon as large as Rubara.

“Make them leave, Granny Ruby!” Eric grumbled.

He didn’t deserve to be called Lord Eric, or inherit a castle. Eric would have given away both if it could bring Margery back. But nothing could do that. He just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.

Eric expected to hear Rubara growl or feel a sudden wave of heat as she sent out a bit of flame to scare the man off like she did with Chosan. But instead, he felt her get up. As she did so, Eric lost his support and fell forward onto his stomach. He rolled around and looked up as she readjusted herself so that her large violet eyes were directly over him.

“You need to eat little one,” she said before licking him and covering him in dragon saliva. “The knight is right. Your mother wouldn’t want you to starve. Now go clean yourself up. You’re filthy.”

“Uh! Not you too!” Eric sighed.

But he slowly pulled himself to his feet, feeling as though he were covered by a heavy piece of iron. He silently made his way to the nearby lake and for the first time in his life jumped into water without complaint. He chilled as the cold water touched his skin, it was colder than Eric ever recalled on Dragoran. When he finished, the servant boy handed him the robe and boots to change into. The robe was white with a bright yellow trim and the Sortar Crown on the chest. Eric felt it cover his body from the light morning breeze, it made him comfortable at least.

“Well, it isn’t the garb of a young Lord. But it should be presentable until we get you something worthy of your rank,” Orvalor said.

Eric shrugged. He used to like the idea of wearing fine clothes and not just a loincloth. But it didn’t matter now. He’d been looking forward to almost everything Sortar had to offer, he wanted to experience it with his mother. But now she wasn’t here. Eric felt his eyes water as that though kept coursing through his brain.

“You look fine, little one,” Rubara said as she brought her head down and nuzzled him softly. “Now go feed yourself, and don’t be sad for too long. Your mother wouldn’t want that either.”

Eric wiped his eyes and nodded. She was right, but it was easier said then done. He turned to Orvalor who lead him across the bridge to Soyagone.

“I’m Gerg by the way,” said the servant boy as they crossed the bridge. “Just a servant here. My grandfather is the steward.”

“Hi,” was all Eric said.

He looked down at the ground with a heavy heart.

“I’m sorry about your mother. I lost my parents as well so I know how you feel,” Gerg said.

Eric said nothing. They walked into the grounds through the gap in the walls. Like Sortar, Soyagone had rectangular walls protecting it with a tower at each corner. The castle itself was also rectangular, but had its towers more toward the middle. Banners bearing the Yagaro crest of the letter Y on a shield over a white background were hung on the walls as well. Orvalor turned and Eric followed. As he did so, he caught the scent of an animal he’d never smelled before. Sniffing, he gazed around and for the first time in his life saw a horse, the animal steads often rode by knights in battle. Until now he had only seen pictures from his mother’s books. There were many of them, standing in paddocks along the castle wall on either side of him. They looked…

Tasty! That’s what they look like! Clauwing’s voice said in Eric’s head. Delicious meat!

From Eric’s lips sounded a growl that he didn’t make of his own accord.

“What the!” Gerg exclaimed.

No! Wait! Eric thought, unable to speak with his own mouth, his grief turning to panic. The horses are not for eating!

Clauwing didn’t stop or even reply to Eric. He looked at the nearest horse, a white mare with a golden mane, and charged. A wild animal didn’t regard whether another animal was owned or not. To the beast living in Eric’s head this horse was nothing more than a prospective meal.

“Lord Eric!?” the old voice of the knight yelled in confusion.

Clauwing leapt over the wooden gate, screeching at the horse which made a nervous cry as it stepped back. Eric felt like a prisoner in his own body. Able to hear and see clearly, last time it had felt like a dream since he’d been asleep while the opinicus took over. But Eric could do nothing. He tried to mentally take control of his body back. But Clauwing seemed to have a greater will than ever did before. Then Eric remembered the hungrier an inner beast became the harder it was to control.

“You’ll be good meal!” Clauwing said with Eric’s lips to the horse.

“Stay away!” the mare said in the beast tongue, which only animals and beast sorcerers could understand. She got up on her hind legs and flailed her front ones.

“He’s been possessed by his inner beast!” the knight’s voice said from behind, speaking in common before changing to Soron. “Cu nay viset!”

Eric’s vision suddenly went dark and he couldn’t see a thing.

“What the feather?” Clauwing asked also not able to see as he took a step forward.

“Stay away beast!” the mare screamed.

Both Eric and Clauwing felt something hit them in the shoulder hard. They were knocked to the ground.

“Whoa there Snowshine!” Orvalor’s voice called.

There was a plopping sound ahead, and the mare snorted while Eric grunted at the pain in his shoulder. Armored footsteps approached and someone touched the wounded shoulder, causing him to wince. Eric heard the soft hum of sorcery being channeled, then he could see again and the pain in his shoulder began to lessen. He looked to see his shoulder, finding that he was back in control and Orvalor was bending over him. The knight pressed a hand full of green sorcery to Eric’s shoulder, healing the wound inflicted moments ago. The mare stood in the stall looking down at Eric and snorting once more.

“I’ve lived for a long time, but I’ve never seen a beast sorcerer with a feral beast before,” the knight said.

“Thanks for stopping me,” Eric said.

He expected Clauwing to say something, but the opinicus was silent.

“Clauwing?” Eric asked, tapping his head.

“I suppressed your sorcery,” Orvalor said, guessing Eric was doing. “Thought it best to prevent your beast from doing anything else. It can’t even speak to you now.”

Eric got up and was then led into what could only be the Great Hall. Four long tables ran down most of the room, covered in fine cloth and silverware. A fireplace stood on the side in the center, though currently unlit. The tables in front weren’t very full, only having a few soldiers each sitting there as extra security. Most of the soldiers would likely be eating in the barracks or other areas of the castle. A shorter table sat at the back with Chosan at the head facing the front. Behind the head table were doors leading out back. Eric made his way there after Orvalor, he’d often looked forward to stepping into a large room like this. But now… he felt neither joy nor eagerness.

Seated with Chosan at the smaller table were eight people. Eric’s uncle sat in the middle surrounded by a group of people. His mother had made drawings on their cave wall on Dragoran of the Presteegs. On Chosan’s immediate left was another Soron Knight with a dark ponytail, he wore a blue headband and cape over his armor that clearly bore the Patron coins. Next to him sat a woman in an orange dress. If Eric hadn’t been made aware that Lorala was Vikal’s wife he might have assumed her to be his sister since both had the same hair and wore it in ponytails, though Lorala had hers off along her shoulder and kept it in place with a gold band. After her sat a knight with long blonde hair that had to be Omulus, Orvalor’s bastard son that didn’t have sorcery as Eric could see by the plain white cape he wore. The last person seated on that side of the table was a sorcerer in a yellow robe with a scar running down his face, he looked even older then Orvalor.

There were four children as well. Eric hadn’t heard of them. He saw three boys about his age and a smaller girl that looked ten. All of them had dark hair, though the two boys on the right were both transformed into beast men, fur covering their faces and circular ears. They were bear beast sorcerers. The human boy had a ponytail like Vikal and the girl put hers into pigtails with a jeweled flower on the right side. Each boy wore a shirt that showed an open hand, marking them as Lend Hands. The two bear boys had colored shirts, one blue the other orange, and the human wore basic white, so Eric could only assume he was a non-sorcerer.

As Eric approached the table Chosan addressed him. “How do you feel?”

Eric merely shrugged and looked down.

Chosan nodded. “Losing a loved one is never easy.”

“On top of it all I nearly attacked a horse a moment ago,” Eric confessed.

“You what?” the little girl next to Chosan asked in surprise and concern.

“Do not worry Myra, the horse is fine,” Orvalor said.

“But… but why would you ever want to hurt a horsey?” the girl named Myra asked.

“I didn’t want to!” Eric told her. “My inner beast did.”

“Your inner beast? So, you’re a beast sorcerer?” the human boy next to Myra inquired.

“Hey you’re like us!” the two bear boys said in unison before glaring at each other.

“Aye,” Eric nodded. “My powers are nature and beast sorcery.”

“No, you should have-

“Arvis!” Chosan stopped the older sorcerer from finishing his sentence. “Not now.”

Eric looked at the sorcerer who had been about to say he should have something. But he shrugged, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered to him right now.

Chosan looked at Gerg. “Please go and retrieve the things I told you of earlier.”

“Yes Lord Chosan.” The servant boy bowed and walked through the back doors.

Chosan then motioned to the empty seat on his right. “Well, have a seat, Eric. Food will be brought up shortly.”

Eric walked around the table and sat down between the little girl named Myra and Chosan.

Myra looked from her grandfather to Eric in surprise. “But that’s grandfather’s seat! Where is he going to sit?”

The knight Eric guessed was Vikal looked over to the bear boys. “One of you can give up your seat!”

“Not me!” the boy in blue said. “You give up yours, Dikal!”

“No! You give up yours, Rikal!”

“You!”

“You!”

“You!”

“I know! How about we wrestle for it?”

“Fine with me!”

“That won’t be necessary, boys!” Orvalor walked around the table and came up behind Myra’s chair. “I shall just steal your seat, little lady!”

He pulled her chair out and picked her up. She let out a small scream and then giggled as he sat back down and plopped her onto his lap. Orvalor took off his helmet to reveal his face. As Eric guessed from his voice, the captain was old, with a short gray beard and neck length hair. He had green eyes to match his cape and plume, they seemed to light up as he smiled and held his granddaughter. She picked up his helmet and put it on her own head.

“Look, I’m Captain of the Yagaro Guard!” Myra said.

There were some laughs around the table, all except Eric and Lorala.

Then Vikal said, “Myra is right, father. You belong by Lord Chosan’s side, you can have my chair.”

“Oh, don’t fret Vikal! Soon I’ll be gone, and you’ll be Head Captain.” Orvalor said.

So, Eric had been right. That was Vikal.

“Tis not a day I look forward to,” Vikal said.

“So, you’re Vikal, Lorala, and Omulus,” Eric guessed aloud pointing to each person. “I’ve heard of you all! And I guess she must be your daughter than?” Eric guessed, pointing to Myra.

Vikal nodded, then pointed to the bear boys, “Aye, and they are my sons.”

Omulus gave a small smile. “I see Derair’s son is a smart one. I’d expect no less.”

Eric blushed despite himself at the compliment.

“Greetings, Lord Eric,” the scarred older sorcerer said. “I am Arvis, the resident sorcerer here.”

Eric nodded in understanding, recalling the head sorcerer Arvis from his lessons with Margery. The man had become a master of all matters of sorcery and trained the Yagaro’s in its arts. Though from what Eric recalled about him, he didn’t like leaving the safety of the Yagaro castle. But there was someone missing now that he thought about it.

“Wasn’t your wife’s name Myra as well, Sir Orvalor?” Eric asked.

The old knight looked down. “Aye, she’s gone now. Killed in a robbery attempt ten years ago. We lost a few people that day.”

Eric felt a new sting in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Orvalor nodded. “I’m sorry as well. I know how you feel, Lord Eric. I wasn’t much older than you… when my keep was burned and I had to journey here.”

Eric stiffened. He couldn’t imagine losing his home as well. The cavern had been the place he’d grown up. He couldn’t lose that though, could he? Well, if the cavern ever collapsed. Orvalor had been through more than he had no doubt. All these people had lost someone probably as well to the evils of the world.

He sat there silently, his mother’s face appearing in his head. He remembered his dragon family as well. At least they were safe. Then Corgo appeared in his mind’s eye. Eric clenched a fist. He looked at Orvalor, who appeared calm as he held his granddaughter. He looked happy, but that pain of losing his wife, parents, and who knew how many others had to still be there. There was so much loss in this world!

I made a promise. Eric thought as he held his fist. I’m gonna end dragon hunting someday. And I’ll end Corgo… and anyone else who threatens the innocent. Someday, I’ll put a stop to all of it.

Now that he had finally come home, he would have access to the vast wealth and enchanted objects the Yagaros had, he could study the other sorcerer powers besides Nature and Beast. This time he would take it seriously.

His stomach rumbled, interrupting his thoughts.

Eric grimaced, the hunger seeming to come out from behind his numbing feeling of grief suddenly. Fortunately, the doors on the left side of the hall opened and another old man like Orvalor and Arvis walked in. He wore a servant’s tunic like Gerg, and by his side was a girl in a similar dress with a bonnet on her head. She was maybe a couple years older than Eric. Both of them carried something with food. The man a pair of platters, one in each arm, the first held bacon, the second finely cut fruit. The girl meanwhile held a large basket of bread.

“Ah Eric, this is our steward Gilber Verdos and his granddaughter Grella,” Chosan said pointing to each of them. “You’ve already met his grandson, Gerg.”

“Hello,” Eric said with a brief nod.

“Hello Lord Eric,” Gilber said. “I’ve been looking forward to having you and your mother back home. Alas it was not meant to be with both of you. If there is anything you need, you have but to ask. I and my family are your humble servants.”

He bowed to Eric, signifying a high level of loyalty.

“Uh…thank you,” Eric said attempting to be polite.

Everyone treated him like a superior here. It made him shudder slightly.

Even in his grief, he couldn’t help his mouth from watering at the sight of the food. He filled his plate as the servant family passed it around the table. He’d had bacon before, from wild boar on Dragoran. That was his favorite! He shook in anticipation, it didn’t taste the same since it came from domestic pigs rather than boar, but it was still very good. The servant girl, Grella, passed him bread and butter.

As he ate, his grief lifted somewhat with the joy of food, but he still wished Margery were here. She’d get to meet all of her old friends and meet these children that had been born after she’d left. Eric shook his head, trying to shake his mother out of his mind.

There was silence, and Gerg soon returned with a man in a singed gray apron. In his arms, the boy carried a sword and dagger wrapped in a brown belt. Gerg also carried a leather knapsack.

“I have a few welcoming gifts for you Eric,” Chosan said. “A sword and dagger. Fresh forged by our castle smith.”

“That would be me!” the man in the apron said. “Greetings Lord Eric, I am Alvan, the Blacksmith of Soyagone.”

Eric didn’t reply as Gerg set the items down in front of him.

“I made these for you,” Alvan continued with a proud smile as he pointed to the weapons.

Eric took them slowly. They were both very much like his mother’s daggers. The only difference appeared to be the colors and size, at least at first glance. The grips around the handles and sheath were covered in red leather with a ruby at the top of each pommel. The curved guard showed the Yagaro crest in the middle of each weapon. Like both his mother’s daggers, Eric’s possessed the glyphs of nature and shapeshifting enchantments. Though the sword didn’t possess any glyphs.

“I coated both blades in silver, and Arvis strengthened them with magic as I pounded them with my hammer to make sorsteel. That is the metal that can slay demons and is not affected by core sorcery,” Alvan told Eric.

“I know what sorsteel can do,” Eric replied.

“Oh, wasn’t sure you’d know. Well, I left the dagger’s pommel as plain steel, that will allow you to transform it into a mace if need be. The handle can also grow into a spear. It can’t turn into a sword, but then you already have one. Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Eric nodded. They were indeed beautiful. He drew the sword and saw it was indeed a shiny silver brighter than the sorsteel armor. This blade would work against most demons. But not Corgo, thanks to whatever enhancements Zaro gave the bat a thousand years ago, that monster was immune to silver and all forms of sorcery. Eric looked away, the sword and dagger would not help him against Corgo. Still, he needed to say something to express gratitude.

“Thank you,” he said sheathing the sword while suppressing a sniffle.

Alvan looked at him, seeming disappointed. “Usually, a boy is grinning whenever I give him his first blade. You should have seen Rikal and Dikal when I gave them their swords! They both decided to try them out and challenged each other to a duel!”

“Aye! We wanted to see who the better warrior was-” Rikal said a grin.

“But our parents didn’t want us killing each other!” Dikal said.

“Hey, don’t interrupt me!” Rikal snapped.

“Wanna go?” Dikal asked.

“You bet!”

They began to scuffle again, with Dikal hitting his plate with an elbow with a clang.

“Boys enough!” Vikal said. “No fighting at the table!”

The bear twins growled at each other but disengaged.

“Later!” they said together then snarled at each other again. “Stop copying me!”

It was like they were a mirror. Eric sniggered a bit, watching these two fight was a bit funny, though he had no heart for a lack.

Alvan did though. “Hahaha! I like to see youngsters whose eyes light up whenever they get their first sword! But alas, I’ve heard what has happened. Hard to take joy right after something so terrible. Curse that Corgo! But remember Lord Eric, if you need anything, you have but to ask. My hammer is ready to shape metal for you!”

He patted his side where he wore a smith hammer on his belt before walking off. Gerg then came forward with the knapsack on his shoulder and handed it to Eric.

“This knapsack will be useful to you,” Arvis said. “I enchanted it to so that it can carry many items inside and it will make them lighter as well.”

Eric opened the satchel and peered inside, finding what appeared to be a much bigger bag on the inside. Eric pulled his head back and looked over the satchel, noticing it also bore the Yagaro crest in the center.

“I can have Vikal or Omulus train you to handle a sword and other weapons when you wish,” Chosan said.

“And I will handle your sorcery training here,” Arvis said.

“I already know,” Eric told him. “My… my mother taught me a few things about weapons.”

“Your mother?” Myra asked, interested. “Could you teach me?”

“Young lady!” Lorala screamed. “You are not to ever touch swords! They are for strong men! If you ask me Lady Margery should have stayed clear of them.”

Eric frowned at her, the way she said his mother’s name made it clear that she didn’t like her.

“That’s right, you could never even lift a sword little sister!” Rikal said.

“Oh yes, I could!” Myra said in a determined voice. “One day I will be a Soron Knight like grandfather and father!”

Both the bear boys laughed. “We’re both going to be a Soron Knight. That’s what men do. You’re a girl… and you are going to get a staff and a little dagger. You’ll use your magic to heal or shield.”

Eric frowned. His mother had wielded a sword quite well. Woman could be just as capable as a man given the proper training.

“No! I want to fight!” Myra leaned over and slapped Dikal on the shoulder. “I want to wield a sword!”

“Oh, you are going to get it!” the orange clad Lend Hand said. “Hold her grandfather!”

He reached over and tickled her. Myra began to giggle as Orvalor tightened his hold on her with a smile. She flailed trying to pull her grandfather’s armored hands away, but the old knight was too strong.

“Stop! Stop!” she screamed helplessly through her uncontrollable laughter.

Chosan watched with a small smile. “Well, we’ll be having Margery’s funeral after we are done.”

And so they did. once everyone ate their fill, they made their way out the doors behind them to a courtyard in the middle of the castle. The courtyard was filled with rows of flowers on each of the corners and had finely cut grass. A smaller stone table lay in the middle of the yard with Margery lying on top of it. She’d been changed out of her armor and into a dress, her hair braided and filled with flowers. Eric, Chosan, and those who sat at the main table stood nearest to her body. Dozens of other people, servants, soldiers, and sorcerers stood silently.

Chosan stepped forward, a single soldier with a battleaxe coming out to be by his side as he turned to face the attendants. Eric remembered Margery saying Chosan had had a personal bodyguard back when Derair was still Lord of Soyagone. Lilar if he recalled correctly was the man’s name.

“When I first met my wedsister… she brought a dragon into our castle. A wild dragon. That was… something I could never recall happening in… in the history of our family. Usually, dragons are taken as eggs and raised by sorcerers.”

Eric knew that “taken” meant “stolen.” His mother’s family had won Rubara’s loyalty and love by rescuing her hatchlings from thieves. They hadn’t taken her away from her mother and raised her as a pet. She was a part of the family as far as Eric was concerned.

Chosan continued, sighing heavily and his voice breaking, “My brother found her… and the dragon while fighting to protect a city from… from the Demorians. They came to his aid and he offered them a place here, after some talks at dinner and dances…” Chosan smiled while also shedding a tear. “She brought happiness to Derair when I thought he would never allow himself to be happy. I am forever grateful to her for that. I hoped we could have rid ourselves of our greatest threat and also save her, but it was not meant to be.”

Chosan returned to Eric’s side with Lilar following suit. Other people began coming up to say their piece.

Eric suddenly remembered something. “Aren’t funerals of nobles supposed to be held in the Blood Chapel?”

Chosan nodded. “Usually yes. But I’m not certain Margery would be treated well by those in the city. I will not have her treated with disrespect at her own funeral.”

Omulus came first. “Derair could not have found a wife more beautiful in all of the Sorcerer Kingdom. You were truly worthy of him, my lady.”

Myra came up next. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Lady Yagaro. That you are a strong woman that can wield a sword. I only wish I could have met you.”

She returned to her mother Lorala’s side.

“Very good Myra,” Lorala said. “Though try to refrain from showing an interest in swords.”

Myra looked down. More people came up and said things about Margery. Finally, Chosan patted Eric on the shoulder.

“You’re the last one to speak.”

Eric stepped forward. He came up to his mother’s body and turned to face the attendants. He’d never seen so many people. Until now he’d only seen his mother. They were all looking at him. He felt as though a weight were suddenly in his stomach as well as his heart. He couldn’t speak… there were so many eyes on him.

“Well say something about your mother, boy!” Omulus shouted out. “So that we may send her off to Spirakus!”

Eric said the first thing that came to mind. “I miss her!”

He took several breathes as fresh tears escaped his eyes. Chosan came and pulled him by the arm.

“It’s alright, Eric. It is a sad thing,” Chosan sighed before turning to Arvis. “Burn her.”

“Fyra!”

The Head Sorcerer sent a trail of flames from his finger to Margery. The fire quickly grew on the pyre. Eric watched with teary eyes until his mother was covered in flame, her features swallowed in blinding heat.

“Orvalor,” Chosan said.

“Yes, my lord?” the old knight said.

“Show Eric to his room.”

“At once.” Orvalor bowed before turning to Eric. “This way, Lord Eric. You have the tower on the right.”

He pointed up. Eric nodded, carrying his new satchel, sword and dagger. He followed the knight through a doorway that reminded Eric of the mouth of the cavern. Inside it was dark and shadowed, but Eric could still see. He saw rectangular blocks of stone leading up. Stairs.

Eric had never climbed stairs before. It felt somewhat like walking up hill. After climbing the first set he saw another next to it, which Orvalor continued up. They went all the way to top untill the stairs ended and Eric found himself in a small space with a wooden door nearby.

“Your room,” Orvalor said, opening the door.

Eric stepped inside. The stone walls were rather bare and lacked decorations. Furniture consisting of a desk with a quill, parchment, and ink on top. In the middle of the room stood a table with six chairs. On the table lay Eric’s shield and his mother’s daggers.

Behind the table was Eric’s bed and a bedside table with a candle resting on top of it. Near the door leading into the tower was a display case, dresser, wardrobe and bookshelf that looked as though it held all the books Margery had brought with her to Dragoran. There was another door going out to the balcony, with a couch on one side of it and a chest on the other for Eric to store things in.

“We’ll likely be going to the Market soon, you’ll be able to buy proper clothes and things to brighten this place up,” Orvalor said.

Eric said nothing, he merely shrugged and placed the satchel and his new weapons on the table with his mother’s daggers and his unfinished shield. He was finally home in Soyagone with other people. But without one of the two beings he loved the most, it didn’t feel as happy as he’d always dreamed of it being.