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The Melody of the Cursed

Fantasy Prologue Challenge Submission

By Kris GriffithPublished 2 years ago 7 min read
The Melody of the Cursed
Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, but today was unlike other days, for today a wizard stood trial for murder. The wizard Suroundu looked out into that gathered mass of people and he had the sudden realization that the villagers were gathered to see the first trial of a magical being in over a century. A lump formed in his throat as he realized that they were there for HIS trial.

Standing beside him on the stage was a group of nine dragons. All of them were terrifying to look upon. The sight of them made the villager’s cringe. These dragons were a little bigger than a large horse and had thick athletic muscles. Their scales covered their entire bodies and were the size of dinner plates and each scale looked to be razor sharp. Jotting from in between the scales on their backs were sharp quills about three feet long. Razor sharp claws tore at the ground with each step, and their teeth were long and curved. On their heads were horns that curled in and had the reputation of cutting their enemies as though they had been cut with poison swords. Scars adorned the faces and bodies of these creatures.

Standing opposite of the dragons, and on the other side of Suroundu stood a crowd of over a dozen wizards. They all ranged from the ages of 15 and 25 years of age. They were strange beings who talked to themselves constantly, and could never stop moving or twitching. Their young bodies were crippled and pained. The hair on their heads were disheveled and greying. It was hard to believe that they once were normal kids in the village until being plucked away and thrown into this magical world. Wizards wielded unbelievable power, but were not always in control of the energy that they used.

The villagers tensely stood watching this spectacle. These people were farmers, blacksmiths, merchants, and seamstresses. The one thing they all had in common was their fear of both dragons and wizards. Despite their apprehension of the company that stood on the makeshift stage in front of them, they were excited to witness this event. Their energy added to the power that was coming from the dragons and wizards and made the situation feel as though the moment was about to explode.

In the audience stood Zorbin and his wife Oronbu. They looked to the stage with pained eyes. That was their son, or at least he used to be before the magical curse had found him. He was once a normal boy in the village. Zorbin winced when he remembered Suroundu helping him in his bakery. That kid could never walk into the bakery without getting immediately covered in flour or grease. Sometimes he would help Oronbu deliver the delicious breads or pastries that he would make. Everyone had enjoyed being around Suroundu. His sense of humor was contagious and his work ethic was abnormal.

“Silence” demanded one of the dragons. His voice was mechanical, like metal striking metal and glass sliding against another piece of glass. The crowd silenced at once. They all at once turned to the area where the voice boomed from. There stood a dragon that was more muscular than the others. The scars he carried told the crowd that this was a beast that was not to be trifled with.

“Bring the chair” he ordered.

Two wizards approached with a soft leather chair and placed it behind Suroundu. They then walked to the front of the chair to face him and cast a spell. The spell was wordless, or at least the crowd couldn’t hear what was said, but they did hear their screams of agony. Magic is always painful for humans. The spell worked well though, and forced Suroundu to sit on the chair and invisible bands lashed him onto it.

“The chair is for the protection of all,” the dragon said. “It will neutralize his power”.

“The rumors are true” the villagers gasped. The villagers had often whispered that comfort was the enemy of magic, and was the one sure way to cut a wizard off from the energy. “No wonder why they look so pained,” someone in the crowd said, “they can never sit down, or sleep in a bed.”

The dragon continued. “Suroundu, you are facing trial, but not for the life you took. You are being judged for the life you set free.”

A feeling of disbelief ran through the crowd. How could someone be condemned for freeing a life? How could saving a life be wrong? A trial for magical beings is much different than for man, and no elaboration was offered.

“Suroundu, we will cut a hair from your head, and the magic that is contained in that single hair will judge your guilt or innocence.”

A third wizard approached and drew sheers from his clothing. He quickly cut a hair from Suroundu’s head and flicked it up into the air. The hair popped with energy, and transformed into an emerald green light with a crimson outline. It then turned into golden smoke and vanished.

“Suroundu,” said the dragon. “The magic never lies. It has found you guilty. The law demands death, and your sentence will be carried out immediately.”

“No!” wailed Oronbu. Her shrill scream tore at the hearts of everyone in attendance. Zorbin put a loving hand around the shoulder of his wife and drew her close. Unfortunately, a mother’s love only adds intensity to the magical energy of the moment.

Suroundu’s eyes showed no emotion. There was no fear, no hatred, no sadness. He simply stared on with a stoic expression.

Silence overtook the magnitude and the only sound that could be heard was Oronbu’s sobs as she cried quietly onto Zorbins shoulder. The dragons bowed toward Suroundu. The wizards all took a knee and began to hum a sad tune that carried some kind of strange magic. The melody felt like a longing for what once was, and a reminder of the sacrifices his body had made to harness this energy.

One of the nine dragons approached the wizard and bowed its gnarled head. This one carried many battle scars, like the rest of them, but this one had a golden tint to its scales. Upon raising its head, it let out a mighty roar, and shot a beam of light from its mouth directly into Suroundu’s chest. The beam of golden light was the thickness of a good rope. It almost immediately pulled a beam of crimson light from Suroundu’s chest. The gold and crimson lights seemed to wrestle for a moment, then together they shot into the air. Screams came from Suroundu’s agonized lips, and his body convulsed with agony. The dragon too struggled through the pain it was feeling and a whimper came from his toothy mouth. The beams split in all directions and came back to earth in a dome that encased all present in the valley. The beams twisted into a helix and glowed brightly, almost blinding anyone who dared to look. The translucent dome had the coloring of a soap bubble that had just been blown off a childhood toy. The beam from both dragon and wizard grew more intense in the center, and the dome took on more energy too. Electrical pops and hums began to be heard coming from the dome itself. This caused the villagers to drop to the ground in fear. The hums and pops intensified until lightning and thunder began to fill the outside of the dome. The ground outside the dome was becoming charred from the repeated lightening strikes. If anyone had the nerve to look on stage, they would have seen the dragon and wizard both beginning to disappear. As their bodies began to disintegrate the light show began to die down. The lightning hit with less regularity, and the frightening sounds of the electrical bubble that surrounded them died off, and the dragon and wizard were no more.

Someone in the crowd screamed and pointed to a ball of lightening floating off in the distance. It was 300 yards away, 400 yards, 500 yards away it shot into the air and exploded. The explosion shook the ground they stood on and made everyone in attendance momentarily deaf. Lightening struck the ground directly under where the ball had gone airborne. The ground rippled like waves on the ocean knocking everyone from their feet. Wind blasted them quickly at the end of the ripples, knocking all those who were regaining their feet back to the ground. It was the scariest, saddest, and most amazing day that anyone in recent memory had ever experienced


About the Creator

Kris Griffith

I have been away from creative writing for many years. I am trying to rediscover who I am through my writings. Come join in the journey!

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