Damned Scroll

Mapquesting

Damned Scroll

                   by ~ Reagana

                   

Alas, Isaac told himself that he would never again find himself before the walls of this town, yet, here he sat. One steady hand upon the reins and the other shaking, stroking the scroll case, he sought a quick escape from this madness that he agreed to partake of. I have no business returning here; well, no business besides this damned scroll, that is.

Memories of Emma, her shy smile and gentle spirit, assailed him. He cast these memories aside long ago, when her father decided that her engagement to Nathaniel held more promise than any that Isaac could hope to make. Walking from this town for that last time, or so he had thought, Isaac sought the gate from which he would never return. His decision made for him, his tears of frustration and loss blurred the gate before him. Tears misting his eyes, the town wall blurred before him once again, so many years later, dispersing these unwanted remembrances.

Reaching down with a gentle caress, he rubbed Cobbler's neck, seeking to still her fidgeting. Cobbler liked standing still only as much as he did. Isaac, eyes narrowed, sat his horse with a straight back, and set off toward the town. Errand boy, indeed! Running father's errands must have made me a prime target for the delivery of mysterious scrolls, given by half-baked lunatics that decide I've nothing better to do!

Reaching the wall, Isaac nimbly dismounted Cobbler's back. Stretching his legs, the wind tickled through his long brown hair, quickly drying his sweat into sticky spikes. Standing there, indecision writ on his face, as well as his heart, he sought a means by which he could deliver the scroll without putting himself through the torture that awaited him within the confines of the town. Walking quietly, lest he alert anyone, Isaac stood upon his toes, reached up to the top of the wall, and with utmost care, laid the document on its rough stone surface. His hand frozen above the scroll, he awaited the sound of a terse voice, alerting him that his attempt had failed. Hearing not a sound, he removed his hand with care.

Backing away, he eyed the scroll with disdain, his cowardice in not completing his task causing him to stop in his tracks. Steeling his resolve, Isaac determined to see this through. I have yet to shy away from any task, and this will not be the first. Having made this decision, he turned back to his horse. "Stay put, my girl. I will not be gone long enough to stable you. Let me rid myself of this message that had better be worth the trip, gather our coins and we shall be headed home."

With a loose toss, he tangled Cobbler's reins around a post, convenient for just such a purpose. Isaac snatched the scroll from atop the wall, marched through the portal of the gate and into a nightmare of unparalleled proportions. Swaying upon his feet, Isaac's back met the cold, rough stone of the courtyard wall, his legs giving way as he slid to the ground. Before his unbelieving eyes lie devastation as he never imagined. With one hand, he quickly covered his mouth, lest the scream he felt building rupture from his lungs.

Before him lie, sprawled across the square, the gross, misshapen, and bloated bodies of the townspeople. Chickens ran amok, flapping and squawking over the bodies, as though nothing was amiss. Pulling his eyes from this sight, he cast a furtive scan across the buildings, hoping to find at least one living soul that must have, somehow, survived the town's demise. The condition of the structures left standing assured him that there was no place to hide where one would not have been found by whoever was responsible for this. Most were nothing but piles of rubble, left as sentinels bearing witness to this tragedy.

A growling, growing in its fierceness, brought him back to the scene before him. A pack of dogs, pets left without food and shelter for too long, fought with savage hunger over the flesh of a babe, held tight by rigor mortis, in its mother's arms. The horror, at last, overwhelmed him. Turning to the side, Isaac retched upon the blood-stained ground.

A frantic search for something with which to wave at the dogs, and perhaps as a weapon of defense against the starving mongrels, Isaac wrapped his hands around the haft of a pike, lying shattered upon the cobbles. The broken end left jagged splinters of wood that would more than suffice, or so he hoped. Before he had time to think, he climbed back onto his shaking legs, and charged, shouting, “Get away from here! Go! Leave your masters...go on!" Isaac swung his pike at the dogs, watching as they backed away with teeth bared and hackles raised.

Within the oppressive silence left in the wake of this annihilation, Isaac thought he detected a voice, calling out in weakness. Spinning in the direction from whence it came, he sprinted to a rubble-strewn alley, suffocating under the perceived weight of the crumbling buildings encroaching from all sides.

He called out, "Hello! Who's there?" Isaac waited several heartbeats, and then began plowing through the wreckage, in search of the poor wretch left to survive this massacre. Hearing a gurgled coughing, Isaac began lifting broken beams and tables, those that he could manage, casting them aside. He pulled aside one of the tablecloths that Ella, the tavern keeper's wife, always kept so spotless and clean. Now ripped in several places, covered in blood and grime, she would fail to recognize it as one of her own. Eyes wide with shock and mouth ajar, Isaac stared straight into the eyes of this long-ago rival, Nathaniel.

"You! I should have known how fate would play its hand." Nathaniel gasped, clutching the profuse amount of blood spilling from the wound in his chest. He began to cough weakly, a spittle of blood forming at the corners of his mouth. Isaac stared, fascinated, as the bubbles slowly popped. Brought back to the present by Nathaniel's gasp, Isaac forced himself to look him in the eyes, refusing the overpowering urge to turn and run. Nathaniel's brows drew together and his face twitched with uncontrolled anger.

Clearly upon his deathbed, Isaac could not comprehend this emotion directed at him, yet was thankful that it gave him something other than terror with which to focus upon.

"Would that fate had spared me this knowledge before my death. The irony of it all is that, after all this time, you will be her savior!" Turning aside after retching, with some amount of violence, Nathaniel appeared to have dismissed him.

"What is this of which you speak? Who is this she?" Realizing who Nathaniel must be referring to, Isaac reached down to what was left of the man's clothing, and with a roughness unnecessary to the moment, began shaking him by the shreds of his tunic. "Where is Emma? Where is she?" Looking around with wildness in his eyes, Isaac thought to see her ravaged face staring through him with her eyes empty and devoid of her soul. When she failed to appear before him, Isaac backed away, intending to search the entire town, body to lifeless body, until he found her. Refusing to abandon all hope, he spun back to the alley's entrance.

Before reaching the opening, he heard Nathaniel call out to him. "Wait. You must not leave...without..."

"Without what?" Isaac, his steps determined, found himself once more standing before the man who stole his girl and left her as carrion. Could not he have saved her? Fuming in his own anger, Isaac towered over the torn figure before him. With Nathaniel appearing to have nothing to impart, Isaac thrust his hand into the scroll case and delivered the missive. Tossing it upon Nathaniel's broken form, he watched it roll to the ground, covered in streaks of crimson blood.

Weakening by the moment, his life's-blood pouring into the earth, Nathaniel struggled to speak. "It is yours now, Fool. You are now the only one who can save her. Open it...you must use this to find your way."

Reaching down, while keeping a wary eye upon Nathaniel, Isaac picked up the scroll, unraveling the parchment. What lie before his eyes was a crudely drawn map. Looking up from the depiction in confusion, Isaac met Nathaniel's eyes, seeking to find what he was missing.

"Her father...spirit...spirited her away moons ago....taken to his stronghold...to be trained in..."

“In what?" Looking upon Nathaniel with incomprehension, in silence, Isaac plead for understanding of this growing madness. Stronghold...spirited away....training?

"In witchcraft...never what she seemed...not strong enough...a prisoner...of her father's power...always a new map. He sent... more detail on each one...a puzzle." Nathaniel convulsed with another tearing pain. "This is the last...will lead you to her...you must…save her!"

Looking back down at the map, still failing to make meaning of Nathaniel's words, he noticed a written line at the bottom. Must fly on the wings of a dragon. Isaac looked to Nathaniel for revelation, only to see that he had left this realm far behind.

Hearing a shuffling sound, Isaac's eyes sought the dark shadows enveloping the back of the alley. From the cloak of darkness shone two red orbs beginning to draw closer, with a flutter of gargantuan wings. Out from the shadows stalked a dragon, tail twitching from side to side. It was the most majestic creature that he had ever imagined. Its ivory scales shone in the sunlight, motes of dust swirling golden before it, drawing its rays into the shadowed alley. The dragon writhed, tossing the wreckage out of its way. It held its head high, its neck reaching beyond the ravaged buildings, and blew a stream of fire into the sky. The dragon turned its eye back to Isaac, who found himself backed up against what was left of the tavern wall. In two strides, the dragon was breathing down his neck. It opened its jaws just as Isaac squeezed his eyes shut. Awaiting the ravaging pain and his imminent death, he, instead, felt a slight tugging on his arm. Isaac looked up long enough to see the dragon, map between its teeth, begin to swallow it whole.

The dragon bowed down and with a sweep of its long neck, indicated that Isaac should climb aboard. Isaac shook his head in vehemence, in denial not only of the possibility of riding this beast, but of everything that had happened since walking through the gate. The dragon did nothing more than watch him, waiting for him to follow orders. Finding his voice at last, Isaac asked, "But...how will we find her now? You ate the map!" The dragon's neck swiveled around until it was eye to eye with Isaac. The dragon blinked and when it opened its eyes, something was revealed that was not there before. Drawing closer, one tentative step at a time, Isaac saw that what was impressed upon the beast's eyes was nothing less than...the map, in all its glorious detail.

Standing before the dragon, Isaac's face held an expression of wonder. The dragon's eyes began to dim, and then it blinked. When it opened its eyes, they were as red and devoid of landscape as they were when Isaac first felt them turned toward him. The dragon strained its neck, wrapping it around Isaac, giving him a not so gentle nudge in the direction of its back. Realizing that his options were somewhat limited, with a fire-breathing dragon at his back, Isaac quickly did as it bid. Grabbing the two small horns that thrust through its back, Isaac squeezed his eyes shut, leaning against its neck, its scales cool against his cheek. With a flutter of wings, the dragon rose into the empty sky, its lone passenger letting out a scream of both fear and triumph, as the wind tore at his precarious hold. Isaac pried his eyes open just in time to see the sky open up and swallow them whole.

                   

Word Count: 1,955