Dragon Realm

The night was cool as Zora entered Lumits. His wagon, drawn by three of the great beasts called fons, clattered on the cobbled streets of the village. Zora had traveled all day, coming from the village of Node to peddle his wares in Lumits which was said to be one of the greatest trading towns in all the lands.
         Zora counted himself a lucky man, for he encountered no dark rulers on his trek to Lumits. He forded the ancient Sagiv River, where the powers were said to collide, with no troubles at all. It was said that people sometimes became mysteriously ill when passing that place, and some even died. But it would be well worth the risk if Zora traded his goods, for he suspected he would earn a nice profit indeed.
         Night fell just before he reached the village so he decided to take a room at the local inn. He paid for the room and parked his wagon and Fons in the sheepshed behind the inn. Zora gathered his wares and took them into his room, for robbery was not uncommon, especially in a land the likes of Kizazi. Before long he dozed off, thinking of the profit he would surely make the next day.
         After breakfast the next morning, Zora fed the massive fons. He admired them, if not for their beauty then for their strength. They were huge beasts, standing over seven feet tall. And they were wide! The smallest was four feet wide, the largest five. Despite their size and weight the fons were, for the most part, very friendly animals.
         After Zora greeted his fons he harnessed them to his wagon, which was now full of his merchandise once again. It was a beautiful day in Lumits. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and all the birds were singing its praises. The two moons shined bright and pleasant as the sun’s reflected light evaporated the mist that had accumulated overnight and tickled Zora’s head with its warm rays.
         Zora was in a jubilant mood and the fons, sensing this, became happy too. They played with each other in a childish way, wriggling their long dog-like muzzles at one another and pointing their large tongues at Zora, who laughed and urged them on towards the market square. In the distance, a family was having a party and a lute was tinting the air with its joyful sound. The fons took up a small skip-dance, which Zora watched with enjoyment. So far, the day was turning out to be a good one.
         The market square was alive with people, wagons, and fons drinking water to quench their enormous thirst. Seeing how thirsty his own fons were, Zora led them towards the very center of the market square where a large fountain stood. After the fons had their fill of water, Zora led them to a small tavern where he tethered them to a post and went inside.
         Inside the tavern Zora spotted his old friend, Samwill, sitting at a table and staring out a window at Zora’s beasts.
         “Ya like ‘em?” Zora said, surprising his old friend.
         “Zora? How are ya?” Samwill asked, pleased to see his old friend.
         “Good, good. And you?”
         “I been alright. Trade’s good. Are those really your beasts?” He glanced admiringly at Zora’s fons.
         “They’re mine alright,” Zora said with a good measure of pride. “I been collecting ‘em for some time now. Nastily expensive they are!”
         “Aren’t they, though? But good beasts they be; got two myself. And loveable! They be as cute as pups. What’s their names?” He motioned towards the three fons who were patiently waiting outside the tavern.
         “The biggest one there is Kirarusi. I call him Ki for short. The shorter one there is called Henini, and he’s my favorite. Talks to me, he does.” Samwill let out a laugh at this, for it is common knowledge that all fons’s vocal chords are removed as pups. Zora wasn’t joking, but he laughed as though he were for it was against the law to have a talking fon.
         “What’s the other one’s name?” Samwill asked.
         “That’s the female of the group. Her name’s Ren and is she ever a hard one to deal with! Never follows orders, but she’s as sweet as sugar so you can’t rightfully discipline her.” Zora sighed at the thought.
         “Aye,” Samwill said. “Ya got to be firm. Give ‘em and inch and they’ll jump all over ya, they will.” Samwill glanced at Zora’s wagon loaded with goods. “What ya cartin’ this time, friend?”
         “Got me some swords. Top of the line, Damascus Steel. Only the best for me.” He pulled his own sword so Samwill could examine the quality of the merchandise.
         After turning it around in his hand, Samwill saw that it was indeed a good sword. Zora nodded. “And it won’t break in battle. ‘Tis a good sword, it is.”
         “Aye. I’ve got me a craving for one of those swords, Zora. How much for an old friend?”
         “No less than ten caraks,” he said.
         “Ah, Zora, that’s a tad expensive. I can’t afford ten caraks, I scarcely live on that many a week.”
         Zora thought about it then smiled. “You’re right, Samwill. I’ll let ya have one for five, but don’t ya tell no one, hear? I won’t get a decent price for the rest of ‘em if word gets out that I sold for less.” Samwill nodded then handed over five of the small sun-dried fruits.
         Walking out to the wagon, Samwill remarked again on the beauty of Zora’s beasts. Zora handed a new Damascus Steel sword over to Samwill and claimed that he had business elsewhere. They exchanged goodbyes, then parted ways.

         It had been a long day for Zora and his three fons. He had sold all but two of the swords and had made a profit of three hundred seventy-nine caraks, by far his largest score. Pleased with himself, Zora had a feast that night in the tavern off of the market square. He had a steak with mushrooms fried in a hearty Poln sauce as his main course, and oh how he loved the Poln, a simple fruit that grows on vines in a distant land. It is sweet with just enough bitterness to make it interesting. Served as a sauce cooked with buttery herbs it is good enough to make a grown man cry.
         Zora ate until he was sure that he’d burst, then he drank sugarberry ale until he was certain he’d overflow. Only then did he start for the inn. Stomach bulging, Zora walked out of the tavern and stumbled on a piece of wood that was lying on the road. He would have fallen had Henini not reached out and grabbed him.
         “Thanks, Ini,” he said to his favorite fon.
         Henini leaned over to make sure that he was out of view and stuck his muzzle close to his master’s ear. “It’s okay, Master. Need help?” Henini’s voice was that of a young man: soft and light.
         “Thanks, Ini, but I think I can make it.” Zora was growing very tired and despite what he said he could not climb into the wagon. Henini lifted him up and over the rails into the wooden seat and then led the way towards the inn with the other fons in tow.
         The wagon got as far as the water fountain when Henini decided to take a drink. When he bent his head to the fountain, after taking a long luxurious gulp of the cool water, he found a shimmering cube of some kind that intrigued him. He called to his master, who woke suddenly and looked down into the water.
         “Pick it up, Ini,” Zora said in a slurred voice.
         Henini picked up the cube slowly, marveling at its beauty. When he had it out of the water it flew out of his hand and burst into several shimmering pieces, one for every color of the rainbow. It was a spectacular show that astounded Zora and his fons. The pieces gradually disappeared as did the colors, but one thing remained hovering in the air. A second later it floated down into Henini’s open palm like a feather. He looked at the object in his hand and was surprised to see a small scroll rolled up on a thin stick of perfectly round wood and stamped with a wax seal.
         “Here Master, you read it.” Henini offered the scroll to Zora, who took and unsealed it.
         “To whom this may concern,” he read. “Be ye a noble citizen of Kizazi Land, or be ye a lowly servant of the even lower King Fashbarton of Simacule, do note that a fallen knight has been trapped in a cave by the most hideous of beasts. It is up to you, my friend, to save that knight, whose quest would be to free the land of Kizazi from the dark rule of the lowly King Ungunthrey. Thus, your reward will be a free and light country once again. Thus, a warning: Do not pass up this note, for the consequences of doing so shall then lie on your head.
         “Should you accept the challenge, the route to the cave is as follows:
         “Travel on the great Samara Road heading west towards Kizazi Pass. Do this by light of day, for master thieves frequent this road at night. Travel for two days on this road, hiding at night, and you will notice other roads turning off towards the north. Ignore those roads until you see one that contains a canknut tree so large that an entire hut could be built amongst its branches. This is the road you must take.
         “Keep going until you reach the Tadhq Mountain Range. The road climbs high into the mountains then, and a beaten path goes off to the northwest. Take that path until you reach a large cave, the outside of which is covered with bones. Thus is the entrance into the beast’s lair. Use caution, my friend, and Kizazi shall be light once again.”
         
         Zora was fully awake and sober by now. His exhaustion and buzz had left him along with his courage, which, to be honest, he did not have very much of in the first place. Yet, he felt obliged to help the fallen knight. If he took the challenge he would surely receive some reward other than a light land, and it would be good for Kizazi to be a light land.
         Not exactly deciding to take the quest, but out of curiosity instead, Zora unfolded his map of Kizazi and winced as he saw the Darkness that covered the land. He remembered the tale of the first true Map of Kizazi all too well.
         The tale was about how great King Simeon, father of Queen Nagromi and ancestor of the lead explorer who discovered Kizazi, took it upon himself to map the land as he saw it. It is said that the king had a spiritual eye and he could see into the Other Realm; thus it is also said that he created his first map of Kizazi in a dark green print in accordance with his visions. All other maps of Kizazi were made in this green print (the ink of which is naturally abundant in Kizazi) to signify what the great King Simeon had implied by his first map: that Kizazi was a very dark place indeed.
         Now looking at the map Zora was depressed by its Darkness. He knew that he had to do something to rid this land of its oppression. He must do something; he was the only person who knew about the fallen knight and his mission that was hindered. But what would he do?
         Suddenly he had his answer. He would find a warrior that was fit for battle and, for a small fee, he would equip the warrior with armor fit for battle. When the mission was completed it would be him who would get the reward, for was it not him who had commissioned the warrior?
         He laughed out loud, startling his fons. He could almost feel the caraks in his small purse now. When Kizazi is light again, he mused; I will be a rich man! A very rich man.

* * *

         “Waddya want?” asked a large man dressed in worn chain mail and an iron helmet – the typical warrior garb.
         “I’m looking for a warrior,” replied Zora who was a bit incensed by this man’s rude reaction to his presence. He had looked in Lumits for a warriors club, as there usually is at least one in every village, and indeed he found one about a mile outside town.
         The club was a small shanty spruced up with a glittery sign announcing its name in unreadable letters. Zora was now standing at the large man’s table, inquiring into his warriorhood.
         “I’m a warrior,” the man said between bites of roasted turkey leg.
         In spite of himself, Zora smiled. “Are ya now? Have ya fought before?” This man was exactly the type of warrior Zora was looking for. He wasn’t one of those dainty little warriors who fought only for justice and peace. He was, rather, one of the large muscle-bound types who did not care about the nature of the cause as long as he got paid. And payment wasn’t a problem with the reward that Zora would surely receive.
         The man waved a drumstick at Zora, sending a piece of meat flying to the far side of the room. “Are ye daft, man? Of course I’ve fought before! Where do you think I got these here muscles? Hmm? How do you think I got myself a membership to this here club?” The man took a bite of his turkey leg, leaving a bit of meat hanging from his lower lip.
         “Can’t get no membership without having fought a dragoon,” the man continued, his voice slightly slurred by the food still remaining in his mouth.
         “You’ve fought a dragon?” Zora asked with amazement.
         “’Course I’ve fought a dragoon! Why do you wanna know?” The man wiped a large hand against his mouth and discovered the piece of meat on his lip, which he eyed suspiciously before flinging it away.
         “As I said before, I’m looking for a warrior.”
         “Yeah, but why do you want a warrior?” The man took another huge bite from his turkey leg and gave Zora an annoyed look.
         “I have a mission for a warrior who is of…um…certain standards.” Zora looked at the huge man, hoping for a sign that he wanted the mission. He received no such sign.
         “No can do, old man; already got me a mission.” The man waved his hand through the air, as if trying to brush Zora away.
         “But it will pay a lot,” Zora pleaded, suddenly desperate for this man’s help.
         The man took one final bite of the turkey leg and stuck the bone into an unseen pocket beneath the chain mail. He wiped his hands on his pant leg and stood up. “Nope,” he said, while making his way to the door.
         Zora followed at the man’s heels. “Fifty caraks,” he offered this paltry sum.
         The man shook his head.
         “Alright,” Zora exclaimed. “Seventy-five Caraks. Plus a free sword!” The man shook his head again and pulled open the door. “Damascus Steel! It won’t break in battle,” Zora called out, but the man either didn’t hear or chose to ignore him. In an instant the man un-tethered two Fons and a wagon from the hitching post and rode off into the night.
         Disheartened, Zora went back inside the club to look for a warrior willing to take a dangerous mission.

* * *

         Zora waited all night for the right warrior, but he never did, and suspected he never would, find that person. Early in the morning, when the two moons had just started over the east and west horizons, before they had joined together in the sky for the midday eclipse, Zora left for the inn.
         At the inn Zora paid for a room, parked his fons, and trudged wearily inside. The shades were drawn, casting gloomy shadows on the walls and floors.
         Zora sat on the bed and pulled off his shoes, then stretched out and closed his eyes. As he lay there, waiting for sleep to come, he heard a sound in the room. He strained to hear something more but nothing came. He wrote it off as being his tired imagination and attempted sleep once more.
         “Why have you not taken the quest?” a majestic voice called out from beyond the shadows.
         Zora sat up so quickly that his bed moved, bumping the nightstand which held a lantern that now teetered on the edge of the table. Zora reached out to grab the lantern before it fell, but was too late. The lantern crashed to the ground, spreading glass and kerosene all over the floor.
         “You have defied me,” the voice rang out, loud and clear, “and left a royal knight to die in a beast’s lair! You have shamed the honorable citizens of Kizazi by your act, and you deserve a grave punishment.”
         Zora shivered, for he now was certain of the voice’s owner. It was undoubtedly the voice of the great King Simeon the Immortal, who reportedly still roamed Kizazi while living as a recluse and legend in Dovie’s Forrest. He decided to be still and listen to the old man.
         The voice sighed and was lost in a contemplative silence for a time. “I will be gracious, however. You deserve punishment, but I will give you another chance. There is still time. Leave now, and I will grant you a full pardon. Defy me again, and I will have you beheaded! Is that clear?” The voice was firm, scaring Zora into action.
         Zora squinted his eyes in an attempt to visualize the old man. When he had scanned the room, however, he found nothing. Nobody sat in the one chair against the far wall, and nobody lurked in the shadows. Although he was completely alone, Zora did not dare defy the king again. He packed his belongings and headed for the sheepshed.
         As he stepped outside a man came out of the shadows. He was wearing a blue robe with the hood up, casting shadows on his face and disguising the color of his hair. The only visible features were the hands, which were mottled with liver spots, and a long white beard hanging over the robe and dragging a trail in the ground.
         The figure extracted something from a pocket beneath the robe and handed it to Zora. “Here, take this. You’ll need it.” He had the same voice as the man in the room, and Zora knew his suspicions were accurate, that this was the legendary Simeon.
         Zora took what the man offered. He heard a sound coming from the sheepshed and looked that way for a moment. When he looked back, the man was gone.

         The road to Kizazi Pass was a long and perilous one. As the scroll said, thieves frequented this road, although not always at night. As scared as the road might have made him, however, Zora was frightened even more so by the prospect of being without a head.
         He did not look at the object that King Simeon had given him until he was well on his way. When he did stop to examine it he saw that what he held was a purple vial containing a dark liquid. The vial was sealed with a cork plug, which Zora readily opened, releasing a faint sweet aroma. Instead of drinking it, which was his immediate desire, he stored the vial in his knapsack for later.
         The mood while traveling on the road was completely different from the joyful one of the previous morning. Zora was silent, contemplating the quest before him. Henini sensed his master’s mood and stayed silent for a long while, contemplating their situation.
         “Master?” Henini said, breaking the silence. “Things will be alright, you’ll conquer this beast and make Thobes light again.”
         “Aye,” Zora sighed. “Got no choice but to conquer the beast; I’ve always liked my head right where it is and I’ve got no intent to change the position of it now. I’ll fight the beast and win, Ini, don’t you worry.”
         Henini perked up at this. “You’ve got two swords left, Master, plus your own. I can fight, as can Ki. We’ll help you conquer the beast!”
         Zora sat a bit straighter in the driver’s seat of the wagon, contemplating the idea of having his fons help in the battle. It was a good idea, but also firmly against the law. Fons were strictly work animals. The law is clear about that: they are used to pull wagons, plow fields, and build buildings. At no time should they be allowed to fight, nor should they be used as meat animals.
         With two fons helping him, however, victory was all but assured. Zora wasn’t an old man, but he wasn’t as young as he used to be either. Against a beast of unknown size and strength he could use all the help he could gather.
         Midday arrived, shrouding the land in darkness, and Zora pulled the wagon over to a tree beside the road. Using his knapsack as a pillow, Zora stretched out under the tree for a nap.
         
         “Master,” Henini whispered, trying to rouse Zora. “Master, wake up.”
         “What is it, Ini?” Zora asked, half asleep.
         “Company. Three people are coming our way.”
         Zora rubbed his eyes and tried to make sense of the matter. One word entered his mind: thieves. He jumped up, drawing his sword and putting his knapsack in the wagon at the same time. He then un-tethered the fons from the tree and jumped into the driver’s seat.
         The three figures were about the same size in the midday darkness, which was big. One had a sword drawn and the two others had daggers. They were close now, only a few yards away. Their silence, along with their size, produced a fear in Zora unlike anything he had felt before.
         When he was ready to make his escape Zora was struck motionless by a realization. All along he had noticed something strange about these three figures, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. They were abnormally tall, but more so they were bulky as if they were carrying something under their clothing. The semi-darkness that covered the land shrouded their faces and hands in shadows, and Zora was unable to make out any features until one of them turned its head to look at the two moons in the midday sky.
         Zora saw a dog-like face with beady, insane, eyes set high above the sloped forehead. A moment later he heard a howl and knew the attack was on.
         There were various reactions to the sudden attack. Kirarusi strained at the harness that held him to the wagon, as if wanting to engage the rogue fons who were attacking. Ren slumped against the wagon, too excited to move; feigning death instead. Henini stood arrow-straight, as if daring the fons to come one step closer. Zora was in a state of shock, not believing that any fon would want to fight a higher race.
         A lot of things happened over the next few seconds. From a distance of ten meters the attacking fons jumped, landing a few feet from Zora’s fons. The two with the daggers slashed the harnesses of Ren, Henini and Kirarusi, and the one with the sword stabbed Zora in the chest, the end of the sword exiting his back and dripping blood down his shirt and onto the ground.
         Time stood still for Henini. The world around him faded to gray, all objects aside from his master turning to dust. A single tear ran down his cheek at the sight of his master’s lifeless body slumping in the driver’s seat of the wagon, still holding his sword. He knew what to do.
         With a howl of anger Henini pulled Zora’s sword away and slashed down in one sweeping arc, cutting one of the wild fons in half. Startled, the other two fons stared blankly at Henini, not understanding why he would kill someone who has just freed him of his bonds.
         Henini shoved the sword deep into one of the other wild fons, killing it instantly. Realizing that the other fon was about to attack, he tried violently to pull the sword free from the innards of the dead beast, but all he received was a sucking sound and more resistance.
         Henini desperately looked back and forth from the dead fon to the live one, searching for something to help him in his plight. Before he could find anything, however, the wild fon lunged at him with a dagger. Searing pain shot from his left shoulder down through his arm and then up again into his brain as the dagger lodged itself in the tendons of his shoulder. A split second before the fon took the dagger from Henini’s shoulder, Henini jerked violently to the left, ripping the dagger from his wound and out of the wild fon’s grasp. The implement went spinning a few feet to the left of them, out of quick reach.
         The battle was at a standstill, both fons eyeing each other, trying to find the opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. Henini sensed no weakness in the other fon, only a cold indifference to the outcome of the battle. Henini sensed that he had no chance of winning by physical strength alone, so he sought another way to win, and an idea entered his mind.
         Using all of his might, Henini jumped upwards six meters and willfully pushed himself a few feet forward. With the force of a miniature bomb, he then landed on top of the wild fon, crushing it instantly.
         He was stunned for a moment, then he slowly walked to the wagon while nursing his wounded shoulder. He looked at Kirarusi and Ren, who were huddled together, glancing wildly at him and Zora.
         “Both of you!” Henini yelled at the Fons. “You dare try to escape from Master? How could you?” Henini expected no answer, for the other fons had been devoiced as pups.
         “Get out of my sight. You’ve no right to view the body of Master, you worthless pigs.” Henini kicked dirt at the fons, who scurried off into the woods to hide behind a tree.
         Henini stood by the body of his master for some time, crying softly. If only there was something, he thought miserably. Something to save Master. Then a thought occurred to him.
         It was only a chance, but it was a hope and hope springs eternal. Henini reached into Zora’s knapsack, hoping that the wild fons did not break anything while plundering the wagon. He found the purple vial, still intact, and pulled the plug. The contents of the vial leaked a sweet perfume, which Henini inhaled pleasurably.
         After replacing the plug, Henini set the vial down and lifted Zora’s lifeless body onto the ground. Pulling the cork again, he tilted Zora’s head backwards and poured the contents down his Master’s throat.
         Nothing happened. Henini looked at the sky – which was glowing with sunlight once again – as if praying for his master’s soul. A howl of grief escaped his throat and echoed hollowly throughout the land. Just then he heard a coughing sound.
         Henini looked down to see that Zora was barely conscious, but alive. Surprised, Henini stepped back to examine his master a little closer. He examined the wound on Zora’s chest and was surprised to see it closing up, new flesh rapidly overcoming the wounded old. In a few moments Zora’s wound was completely gone, only a mark of blood on the clothing showing that it had ever existed at all.
         After a few more minutes Zora was aware enough to stand up, aided by Henini. He leaned against the wagon and examined the dead fons curiously.
         “What happened, Ini?” he asked dazedly.
         Henini went over every detail of the attack, careful not to miss anything and adding a few extra events to show his heroism and bravery. When he got to the part about Kirarusi and Ren, Zora gasped, astonished that his very own fons would ever dream of being free, much less be happy about it when the chance came.
         Knowing that his fons were still out there, likely eavesdropping, Zora called to them. A blue figure stepped out of the woods instead and came strolling up to Zora and Henini. The figure stopped far enough away so that his face was not revealed, yet the long white beard and blue robe were clearly visible and marked the figure for what he was.
         “Those fons have betrayed you,” King Simeon said, “but this fon has proven his strength, courage, brevity, wisdom, and most of all loyalty. With him, and him alone, you shall fight the beast.”
         With that the man vanished into the forest.

* * *

         For two days Zora and Henini traveled on the road to Kizazi Pass, hiding at midday and at night. An hour after the midday eclipse on the second day, Zora spotted a large canknut tree growing beside a road running to the north. It was indeed, he marveled, large enough to hold an entire hut in its branches! Two, even!
         After stocking up on canknut berries, the two travelers headed north into the Tadhq Mountains, as instructed. They had to leave the wagon behind, regrettably, for the terrain was much too steep for Henini alone to pull it. In the long run it proved rewarding, for without the extra weight they traveled twice as fast.
         Having left the dangerous road behind, Zora and Henini were free to travel at night, and they did so happily. By the next morning they made their way to the trail running northwest into the mountains. Knowing that they were drawing near the cave, Zora and Henini ate a large breakfast and prepared themselves mentally for the oncoming battle.
         At midday they were in sight of the cave. Open fissures in the rocky trail produced steam, billowing up from the ground below. Every few seconds the ground shook, as if some powerful entity was trying to frighten them away. The two adventurers crept slowly closer, eyeing the cave’s entrance, expecting to find a fire-breathing dragon leap out of it at any moment.
         As they moved closer they became aware of the bones piled high around them. There were the large, deformed bones of the Fons as well as piles of smaller human bones. Unrecognizable bones littered the ground as well, and Zora felt a trickle of sweat run down his back, alongside a shiver of fear, at the sight of all this death.
         When they reached the cave entrance they noticed immense heat coming from the cavern. As they were peering into the mouth, putting off the time when they would have to enter, a blood-curdling scream emerged from the inners of the mountain, followed by a human’s voice.
         “Help!” said a man’s voice, terrified and wrenched in agony. “For God’s sake, somebody help me!” The voice rose higher, repeating the same cry, and then it became a full scream, which was cut short suddenly by a blood curdling roar.
         The roar became a shriek of inhuman glee, which drew closer to the cave entrance with every beating moment. Zora and Henini turned and ran to a small cleft in the mountainside, where they were able to see the cave entrance safely.
         After a few moments a bloody corpse came hurtling out of the cave, landing on a pile of other bones. It appeared to be chewed thoroughly and the only identifiable feature of the body was an arm completely unscarred. The arm was clad in the full golden armor that classified a knight of the highest rank, and Zora knew at that instant that he had failed.
         Darkness had fallen with the midday eclipse and the sky vanished into a vast array of thunderclouds. A bolt of lightning illuminated the landscape for a moment, showing a blue figure standing a few feet in front of Zora and Henini. Again, the figure’s face was shrouded in shadows and unidentifiable. A long beard flowed gracefully in front of the blue robe and dusted the bones underneath.
         The man looked exactly as he did the last two times Zora had seen him. The only difference was the large battle-axe held firmly in one liver spotted hand. Another bolt of lightning flashed, showing the man’s golden eyes which flared with rage.
         “You are too late!” Simeon said. His voice rang throughout the land as if coming from the heavens. “You have defied me and I will be gracious no more!”
         Another bolt of lightning thundered, showing the blade of the battle-axe high in the air as it came down to meet Zora and Henini in one sweeping arc.
         Zora closed his eyes and waited for the end. Which, oddly enough, did not come as promised. He dared open one eye and saw a fon clutching the shaft of the battle axe right below the blade. King Simeon’s eyes flared in anger as he tried to wrench the axe free, but to no avail.
         “Ki!” Henini called out. He raced over to King Simeon and helped Kirarusi pull the axe out of his grip.
         Simeon deflated and without his anger he looked nothing more than a tired, old man. He lowered his head and slowly sat down.
         Kirarusi dropped the battle axe and knelt by his master, lowering his head in shame.
         “Rise, Kirarusi,” Zora said, offering the fon his hand. Kirarusi took it and stood. “You saved our lives, and with a sacrifice so great comes forgiveness.”
         Kirarusi was suddenly overcome with joy. He grabbed his master in a tight embrace and jumped up and down, squealing with delight. When he let go, Zora stumbled over to the old king and sat down in front of him.
         “I just wanted to set things to right,” Simeon said quietly. “Do you know the history of the Darkness, my son?”
         “Aye. You drew your maps oh so many years ago, knowing full well that the Darkness plagued the land. This is why the ink was so dark, correct?”
         Simeon’s eyes flared. “Absolutely not!” he said. “What stupidity! Dark green ink is the cheapest kind of ink available, and the only thing used in printing presses. My original map was in red, the royal ink reserved for kings. Stupid fools, you peasants are, believing everything your current king tells you.”
         “So where did the Darkness come from, if not from your maps?” Zora asked.
         “When I was King of Kizazi,” he replied, “we were shut off from the outside world. The Tadhq Mountains form a complete barrier on all sides, as you know, with only the Pass as access to the outer world. My people knew nothing about the outer world, for the pass had been sealed off from the day our land was discovered.
         “In the time after Kizazi was founded great beasts emerged into the lands outside Kizazi. These beasts were kind and intelligent, forming the Council of the Seven to deal with interspecies relations. Eventually one bad king declared war and the Seven had to flee. And so, with the help of my daughter, we found our lands invaded. Though by magical means; the Pass stayed closed.
         “We did not care, for the Seven helped us develop our land in a way undreamed of in the thousand years Kizazi had been a nation. In return we offered them shelter until the trouble passed and they could return to their homes.”
         “Could these Seven not defeat one bad king?” Zora asked.
         “Of course they could! They were Dragons and Fons, Ogres and Trolls – all the beasts you take for granted now and treat as slaves. They were strong, but unwilling to fight the humans.
         “They were wise in this, for unbeknownst to Kizazians, humankind had spread so far and so wide that our numbers might as well have been countless. The Seven were a finite group of intelligent creatures, and though they could defeat one kingdom they could not hope to defeat the entire human race. Their only hope was to flee.
         “We lived in peace for many years, and oddly enough I found myself to be aging very slowly, as did Nagromi and a few others who actively helped the Seven. Or one member of the Seven, rather, for I do believe he is responsible for our longevity.
         “Far-Flyer was his name, and he was King of the Dragons and Head Council of the Seven. A great beast of a dragon, pure in almost every way. He became a friend over the years, to be sure.
         “When a hundred years had passed – and this was well after my map had been made and published (and the land was still light, mind you) – I vacated the throne. I had grown tired of ruling and wanted to live a life of luxury. My daughter took over and ruled for another hundred years before her son, Ungunthrey, brutally murdered her and took the throne.
         “He declared war on the Seven immediately, killing a large majority of their population and forcing the rest into hiding. I fled, but only after my wife, Abbra, had been killed by her hateful grandson.
         “I sought Far-Flyer at first, but I found him inconsolable. I barely escaped with my life! He vowed vengeance that day on all humankind, and went on a rampage, killing as many humans in Kizazi as he could.
         “I fear he went insane. Now, all these years later he stays here in this cave, venturing out only to go on killing rampages in the outer world. As you know the Pass was opened and the living Seven were enslaved and forced to play the role of dumb beasts.
         “Far-Flyer’s anger has sustained Ungunthrey, who thrives on the hatred radiating from this cavern. I have lived four times as long as any mere mortal should, and my time is coming soon. Thus I sent that knight, as well as many before him, to try to bring an end to Far-Flyer’s life. Ungunthrey will die then, and I believe the Seven are not too far gone to revolt and take back what is rightfully theirs in that event.
         “I have failed, however,” King Simeon said, lowering his head in shame. “I fear Far-Flyer’s insane reign of hatred will never end.”
         By this time Henini and Kirarusi had joined Zora and Simeon on the dusty, bone-littered ground. Suddenly the earth shook and rain began to fall. Zora’s eyes widened as he stared over Simeon’s shoulder.
         “Insane?” asked a thundering voice from behind Simeon. “Have I not a right to be insane, old man? You humans are worthless, willing to kill your own kind for what? For fortune or property or simply nothing at all!”
         Simeon did not move. With his head still lowered he sighed deeply. “Your loss was great, my old friend. As was my own. No, you have a right to your rage, for our kind has never been as wise as your own in restraint. Indeed, we have treated you like dogs.”
         The earth shook again as the great dragon walked around the group on the ground, huffing plumes of smoke in the process. The midday eclipse had ended, but the thunderclouds kept the darkness at hand. Far-Flyer’s neck stretched out and his head found a place in the circle. His eyes shone brightly, a fiery red that matched his scale color perfectly. Pointed ears jutted above his head, with a tuft of white hair in the middle.
         “Show me one redeeming quality, Simeon,” the dragon said. “Just one, and if it outweighs all the bad qualities I will end my vendetta.”
         Simeon thought for a time, weighing one good quality on top of another. Nothing came close to matching the atrocities humankind brought upon the Seven. Time passed and soon Far-Flyer rose his head to leave.
         “Wait,” said Henini. “I’m one of you, Far-Flyer. Perhaps the only fon left with a voice. I’m a member of the Seven.”
         Far-Flyer chuckled. “The Seven are no more, child. What have you to say?”
         “I say if there is anybody more qualified to side with you it is us fons. We have been treated worse than any other member of the Seven. But I’ll never side with you, dragon, not in a hundred years.”
         “And why not?” Far-Flyer asked.
         “Because I was raised by Zora, a human and one who takes posession over my kind. Is he good? No, at times he’s definitely not. But when I was yet a pup he would sit me on his lap and read stories to me. Grand stories about Princess Nagromi, daughter of Simeon.
         “He read to me how on her birthday this pretty little girl found a magical way to take her drawings and use them to open a portal to Kizazi for all the Seven to traverse. This little girl displayed not just one quality that redeems all humans, but so many more.
         “She was talented, possessing an ability to take nothing and turn it into something grand. She was loving, helping the Seven at a time no human alive would. She was wise, so wise she debated long and hard with her father to convince him to allow you to stay.
         “And then you have Simeon, who for the love of his daughter gave you shelter in a time of storms. This is a man who watched his family killed by his grandson and watched a land which he cherished and once called his own come to ruin. And yet he forgives.
         “This is a man who has had his best friend, the only creature alive who could sympathize and help make things right, disown him and threaten to exterminate his entire race. And yet he forgives.”
         Henini finished and the group sat in silence for a time while the rain poured down around them, sizzling off the scales of the great dragon king. Suddenly Far-Flyer’s head lifted and he thundered away.
         “Do you think–” Zora began but was silenced by a wave of Simeon’s hand.
         A moment later Far-Flyer reappeared, his head slithering up close to Simeon. A jagged shard of glass was held in his mouth, which dropped now into Simeon’s lap. On the glass was a full color portrait of a little girl, surrounded by musicians and dancers at a party.
         Simeon reached over and laid his forehead on Far-Flyer’s neck. “I loved her so much,” he said, the tears flowing freely now.
         “As did I, Simeon,” Far-Flyer said. “When Ungunthrey killed her I thought I would surely die. He took my heart when he killed her. I vowed to never love humankind again.”
         “And yet,” Simeon said, raising up and looking the dragon in the eye, “by taking this vow you grew closer to understanding humanity than you ever had before.”
         “Yes, and I forgot about love. The  years have brought a coldness to my eyes, one that does not want to thaw. And yet...and yet I find this great remorse welling up inside of me.”
         “You did what you had to do, Far-Flyer.”
         “No, Simeon. I was wrong.”
         “I have forgiven you. Change your ways, my friend,” Simeon pleaded. “We can start over, you and I, put the wrongs to right again.”
         “Yes!” said Zora, jumping to his feet suddenly. “And I will help.”
         “Me too,” said Henini, also jumping to his feet. Kirarusi followed, grunting his support.
         “I believe the vote is unanimous, my friend,” said Simeon. “What do you say?”
         “I bow to your will, Simeon, King of Kizazi.” Far-Flyer rose to his full height and stretched his wings, bowing his head in the process. Just then a bolt of lightning came down and showed him in all his glory.
         “Together we will change the world!” he roared, shaking the mountains and the earth. Simeon climbed onto his back and they rose into the air, heading for Lumits and Palace Acacio, which held the lowly King Ungunthrey.
         Zora raised the battle cry and with his two trusty fons he headed off into what would surely be a very different life than the one he led not too very long ago.