The warrior dwelling in the twilight.

It grew, it grew in strength each day.

That which was lost, had all but lingered.

And that which was thought destroyed,

Was merely hidden in the shadows.

Deep. Deep in the crevices of the unseen places,

In the hidden recesses of the earth.

The darkness, had endured.

It had endured from its near fatal wound,

And it manifested itself in the place where men dare not seek.

That which no eye would seek, nor any ear would hear tales of,

It lingered and bided it’s time.

Many times and seasons had past,

Many years since the shadow had been seen.

And so it waited, patiently, silently.

Deep within the rock of the forbidden mountain,

In the farthest depths of the coldest places in the north most part of the world.

Only there would it reveal itself, and it's coming would be all but nigh,

Only there in the realm of coldened ice...

Only there, where the shadows lie…

...

The measure of a man's character is not if they have or have not weathered the storm, but rather, has their character been preserved, their quality intact, and their desire to do what is right, not only been maintained, but has grown all the more. Storms come and go. Wars are waged, and even thieves can attempt to endure and thrive through the plunder ransacked in the midst of panic. A house does not stand without a strong foundation based on a strong pillar to maintain it. So the measure of a person's quality is not if they have endured the downpour of the rain, but if their integrity and quality has not decayed throughout the defiance of the storm. The heart, is a curious thing. The desires that flow from it, the thoughts and ideas that spur from it, and the motivation to pursue anything that inspires it. The measure of a man's heart is defined in the middle of conflict and how he remains steadfast and upright in it, not whether he does or does not survive and thrives through it.

...

“It was a time of prosperity, and peace. The skies were all the clearer and the sun shined brightly upon the land. In the continent of Morganoth, there were four kingdoms that resided.

Four kingdoms each in the direction of the four winds,

Four kingdoms and the territories in which they reside,

Four kingdoms of mortal men who were bound to die,

One darkness, beyond the realm of the northern kingdom,

Four kingdoms who would be plunged into chaos,

Where blood would flow and the innocent would cry,

The abominations from the curse of those who linger in the realm of the damned,

In the darkness in the realm of the north, only there, where the shadows lie…

During the formation and establishment of the four kingdoms, there was an atmosphere of peace and prosperity. Trade routes were filled with merry travelers going to and fro between the realms, trading and bartering, making their portion from many different journeys. Inevitably, there came a time when the four kingdoms agreed upon peace terms, and the future seemed all the brighter. But then, the king in the north fell due to an unusual illness, and his son, an arrogant prince, came to power and inherited the throne. The Prince had an aspiration for power, and sought dominance over the four kingdoms. And so, in his bloodlust, he began to thirst for power, and his desire for dominance no matter how violent his actions, how malicious his intent, or how cruel and many his deeds would be, was something that could never be satisfied.

And so, the prince did the unthinkable. Legends of an ancient evil lingering in the frozen land of the north. A dragon, that held unfathomable power in the freezing fortress of the northern arctic wastelands. The Prince, in his desire for power and dominance, sought out the shadows that lingered in the north. Willing to pay any price and willing to give anything for what the prize he coveted, he made a blood pact with the dragon. And so, the Prince, Prince William Achlys, firstborn to the King in the north and heir to his father's throne ceased to be William Achyls, and became, King Dracul, Son of the dragon.

King Dracul was given an unnatural immortal life, but at a price, his life was sustained by the drinking of human blood. All that was bitten was arisen as a child of the damned, doomed to the darkness to where their new master had dominion. And at a price, no pulse was found in their heart, and no emotion could stir even the slightest thought of remorse. Such was the price to pay for those lived in death, and had no heart...

Dracul continued to rampage throughout the nights where the scorching rays of the sun were not present within the sky, and like an infection that plagued throughout his kingdom, the north eventually became the dominion of vampires. Whispers were heard through every other corner of the other three kingdoms. “Has the northern kingdom given into the darkness? To Damnation?” The phrase was mentioned throughout the kingdoms.

Until the day came when King Dracul had amassed a legion of vampires, and came as a scourge to the realms of the living. Day by day, night by night, nearby villages fell to the power of the damned, as they continued in their insatiable bloodlust to consume all that was alive. As the weeks went by, hope seemed to dwindle for the kingdoms, and the will to fight seemed all but quenched. But then, a man arose from the darkness and took up the fight against the brood of the damned.

A legend arose amongst the people. A man whose hatred for the undead was as ruthless as his methods to slaughter them, he had vowed to kill every last vampire until he drew his last breath. Neither dwelling in the light, nor linger in the dark. Neither walking amongst the living, nor lingering with the brood of the damned. Neither light nor dark, living nor dead, but merely being, existing, he took up the fight against the armies of the dead and one by one, slaughtered them until they were forced to retreat. Until King Dracul arose to challenge him, and the hunter relayed a decisive blow to him in the process. From that day forward, when King Dracul was cast down, the hunter was known by no other name, but by a title.

A man whose title is still muttered to this day by that title. A title, even the remnant of the damned still are terrified to this day. For he who slayed the son of the dragon, was declared on that day, the Dragonslayer.

And so that man awaits the day, waiting for the moment when vampires return and he will finish what he started!” A voice declared within the inn. The sound of man scoffing was heard with a large spit across the inn. “Oh aye! I’m sure the Dragonslayer is still alive and kicking, eagerly waiting the day when he will be forced into action! HA! The vampires are extinct, the damned are slain, and the three remaining kingdoms are never going to have to deal with that ancient evil! No one’s going to see vampires again! No one has in the past fifteen years! Darion, you’re just telling a legend, a myth! We’re never going to see those beasts again!” a Man scoffed. Aye’s filled the inn as the candle light seemed to dim from the scoffing of fools. “Aye! Thomas! You spit in mah inn! Are you going to be cleaning me inn by mopping the floors and wiping down the chairs, or are ye going to be paying me gold for my workers to clean up this place?” The innkeeper shrieked. “Oh, calm yourself, lassy! Ole Bessy could use a bit a coin now, could she?” Thomas mocked.

“This right here, is an inn, not a pigsty! You be showing some proper respect to the property, or ye be cast out like the swine and dogs ye are! I mean it boys, I mean it! I love ya to death with all me heart, but I ain’t here to be playing mother with you boys! Grown men ought to act like proper grown men!” Old Bessy rebuked as the drunkards scoffed and laughed her down. “Aye! I’m sure you could use a proper grown man at your age! You haven’t even born children, and ye be talking about playing mother! HA! Alright, here’s your pay and I’m going up to my room!” Thomas declared. The sound of change jingling from the table at the smack of his hand sounded off as he dragged his arm off the table and stumbled his way up the stairs and into his room.

A man hidden in the corner of the room veiled by a cloak and suited with metal armor and a sword on his side with a bow sheathed on his back sighed at the scoffing as he slammed his drink onto the table. “How ironic that grown men act more like petulant adolescent children, then become disciplined and civilized members of society. After I fought so hard to maintain peace within our lands, a bit of discipline would do them well,” the Armored figure muttered under his breath. “And yet, you continue to linger amidst neutrality, choosing neither light nor dark, life nor death, but prefer delaying the inevitable for the choice at hand. You cannot continue to linger between light and dark, life and death, salvation or damnation. Eventually, you must choose! The war between light and darkness is not something to be toying with by the choice of neutrality. Eventually, you must make a choice!” an old withered man with a long grey beard, cloaked in a white robe reinforced. The man in armor sighed. “Don’t remind me,” He rebuked sharply as he escorted himself away from the corner. “Don’t walk away from me son! I know how much you pride yourself in your own capabilities, but the sins of omission will inevitably catch up to you! How much more innocent blood has to be shed before you make the choice to repent? I know in your heart you are upset about the outcome of what was, but do not let your bitterness and resentment consume you! The Eternal’s calling is upon you, and you cannot delay!” the Old Man reinforced all the more.

The armored man turned his head sharply, and his eyes looked at the Old Man shrewdly. “Ever since the day it all happened, ever since the day that… Never mind. Ever since that day of tragedy, I have sworn to defend the living from the dead and the damned! Ever since that day, my life has been dedicated to the sole purpose of protecting the living, from the beasts that prey against those who have hope, because those who feast upon the blood of the living have none! How much more do I have to give, before he is satisfied? How much more do I have to work and endure, before my sins are atoned for? How much? What more do I have to do?” the Armored Man demanded to know. The Old Man shed a tear in his eye, and wept bitterly. “Your mistake, is that you can work or earn your eternal salvation. Your mistake is that you put more value on your many exceptional qualities and skills, and your application of them for the betterment of mankind, and think that you can do enough. My son, do you not understand? There is nothing you can do to satisfy that debt. Salvation is not earned, it is given as a gift. I pray that one day you would understand this, and understand what it means to gain that which you could never earn. You have a choice to make. I pray, in time, whatever the cost may be, that you would see it, hear it, feel understand it, and finally make your choice. You cannot pay the debt you seek to satisfy, it is too much for you, for any of us. No matter how exceptional you may be in all things, it will never be enough, my son. You will understand this, one day,” The Old man declared.

The armored man stood still for a moment, but then walked out of the inn. The Armored man gazed out as the sun set in the west, his heart fluttering as he observed the daylight fading. “Despite all the blood that’s been shed, and the innocent lives that have been protected, it seems nothing I have done will appease such wrath. Regardless, the daylight's fading. It would be wise for me to not linger out here much longer. Night is coming,” the Armored man noted. He turned his boots and walked into the inn, the thoughts of eternity lingering on his mind. “How can I receive something I haven’t even earned? I’ve always paid off my debts. How can I live with paying off a debt I can’t even begin to fathom? How can I even repay such a cost?” the Armored man thought to himself.

…

The swarm of flying bats fluttered under the night sky, as the forest was filled with the howling call of the wolf. The moon was at its fullest formation, and the wind seemed chilling and eerie. The stars aligned in the heavens, and the leaves seemed to release a constant scent in the atmosphere. As if something was constantly lurking between the flora, hidden in the bushes, lingering amidst the branches of the trees. Two figures appeared on the ground level, their black cloaks lingering amidst the breeze as it passed by them. Their skin both pale, almost ghostly. Their appearances were both fair and enticing, but their demeanor was cold and shrewd. Neither emotion nor compassion, but a cold, calculated shrewdness seemed to define their look. “So, what news from the southern front?” the male asked. The female lifted her right hand, and adjusted her arm cuff link. “Neither any sightings nor any words of the Dragonslayers location. Merely the telling of tales and myths. However, a scent that still lingers almost everywhere. It’s much fainter in some places than others. It seems as if he could either be anywhere, or everywhere,” the Female hinted. The male chuckled. “Or he travels often. If the scent is stronger in certain places, that must mean he’s closer than you think. Follow the trails where the scent is the strongest, then hunt him down until he is destroyed. Utilize the local townsfolk for direction and terrorize them if need be, to get any information on strange wandering travelers. The Master wants him dead before he makes his appearance once more. Only when the Dragonslayer is dealt with, will he approach from the north, and his coming will be all but nigh. Only there, where the shadows lie. We keep moving,” The Male instructed. The Female nodded, as they both vanished into the wind.

…

The night was young, but no less eerie. The constant chattering of other beasts constantly roaming throughout the night. The bushes skittering to make the weary hearted fret more so, but the unknown was still a constant pest lingering in the hearts of travelers. A carriage being carried by two horses carrying goods and items between towns raced down the dirt road in the middle of the forest. “Hyah, Hyah!” the coachmen ordered as the steeds rushed forward in the dark of the night. The sound of constant snoring continued within the carriage, as a young woman stared at the carelessness of the old man she shared a portion with on their journey.

The young woman flowing with blonde hair and dressed in a corset gazed shrewdly at the old man. “Father, shouldn’t we be concerned about what’s out there and not just falling fast asleep carelessly? Shouldn’t we be worried about the monsters that linger in the dark?” the Young Woman inquired. The Father peeped an eye open, and began to yawn as he awoke from the realm of slumber. “The vampires haven’t been seen in years, and I don’t think we will have to deal with them now. Be at ease and at peace, dearest daughter! The night holds no terrors for us tonight! Rest well, and get some shut eye, Penelope, for we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow!” the Father instructed. Penelope released a sigh, as she gazed out into the night “You would think my father, being the business man he is, would be more prudent in his decisions. We shouldn’t be taking a risk by sleeping during a time like this,” Penelope reflected in her heart.

…

The Armored Man rode his steed alongside the old man as they went swiftly down the forest. The night was young, but they remained ever alert. Ever alert, self-controlled, and of a sober mind, lest their adversary send his minions against them. The Armored Man felt something unnatural lurking near the forest. Something lingering in the covering of trees. He brought his steed to a halt, as the Old Man instinctively brought his to heed as well. “What is it?” the Old Man asked with a deep voice. A brief, still, nerve-wracking moment of silence. “They’re here. The enemy is here. All around us, lurking amongst us, circling against us. Be at the ready,” the Armored Man declared. The Old Man placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword, waiting for the pounce. The Armored Man looked around once. “There,” the Armored Man stated. He withdrew a silver throwing dagger from his chest, and threw it into the leaves of a tree. The sound of a monstrous scream roaring in agony as the corpse fell from the trees and began to rot. The flesh began to melt as the bones began to fade into the dust from whence they came. “It’s the Dragonslayer! Kill him! Surround him! Kill him now! For King Dracul!” a shrieking voice in the forest ordered. The Dragonslayer turned his head upwards to find three vampires in the air waiting to pounce upon him. Two silver daggers were tossed into the air, as the two corpses began to fade as the prior had, with the Dragonslayer withdrawing his hybrid sword, the metal slashing the flesh of the other remaining vampire as he shrieked and rotted away! “These drones have always been easy to beat. They have immense speed, but their movements are predictable,” The Dragonslayer noted. The Old Man sliced a drone and tilted his head. “Stay sharp! There may be more inbound!” the Old Man declared.

The night grew silent, as the woodlands lingered on. Neither sound nor movement seemed apparent, yet the atmosphere was all the more intense. The screams of a woman further west down the road shot into the air. “Move, now! Hyah!” the Dragonslayer ordered. The Old Man went with him.

…

Penelope eyes spoke of absolute terror as her father was being devoured in front of her, while others circled around her like a lion's circle as a pack prior to their pounce upon prey. Tears flew like a rushing river after the downpour of the rain, her heart beating like the sound of a drum. A female vampire circled around her, smirking with a wicked grin. “Such a pretty little thing. Such a shame you have to die,” the Female Vampire cackled maniacally. “Please someone help me! Anyone!” Penelope screamed in terror. The female vampire screamed in agony as she withered away into dust. The other male vampires turned around and saw an armored man with a sword of silver. “It, it’s him!” A vampire stated. The Dragonslayer stood as silver arrows flew right by him, hitting each vampire as they withered away to dust and ash.

The dust was settled, and the toll was accrued. The coachmen and the father perished, only Penelope remained alive. Penelope picked herself up and stood in awe. “You’re, you’re the Dragonslayer,” Penelope noted. The Dragonslayer sighed. “You’re very perceptive. That’s correct. I am the Dragonslayer,” the Dragonslayer reinforced. She took a couple steps forward, fell before the Dragonslayer crying. “They’re. They’re all?” She cried. The Dragonslayer looked at her, and something happened. He felt sorry for her, something that was rare for him to do. “They’re fallen. If I don’t slice them silver, they will eventually rise and become a problem for both of us,” the Dragonslayer noted. Penelope panicked. “Wait! What will happen, to their?” Penelope asked.

The Dragonslayer sighed. “There’s nothing more we can do for them,” The Dragonslayer said. He withdrew his sword and sliced both as they both faded into dust. Penelope started to sob miserably. She wailed as she fell to the ground in despair. The Old Man was moved with compassion, and the Dragonslayer continued to move on a bit more, scouting the area.

“We should take her and leave. We can’t leave her here. If we do, she’s easy prey that can be used as information against us if she rises as one of them,” the Old Man noted. The Dragonslayer made no reply, which was answer enough. “Carry her on your back, while I scout ahead,” the Dragonslayer ordered. The Old Man smiled. “You carry her and we will scout ahead together. Besides I’m not as fast as you are,” the Old Man gently taunted. “Feh. You’re just trying to get me closer to a woman that’s all. I have no use for such attachment,” the Dragonslayer mocked. “And here I thought one day I could die as an old man seeing you happy man married and with children,” the Old Man lightly teased.

“Don’t push me,” the Dragonslayer warned. “Or what? It’s not like you haven’t loved someone deeply before, my son,” the Old Man eluded. The Dragonslayer didn’t say a word, as he picked the young girl up and placed her on the horse while he stepped on and sat down as well. “I hate it when the Old Man attempts to get me closer to women. As if he and I have anything more important to do than what we’re already dealing with,” the Dragonslayer thought to himself as they rode along.

…

The winter chill flowed forward as the fortress of ice stood firm. It remained callous and unyielding. Standing mercilessly and relentlessly in the realm of the north. The arctic wastes were jagged, and the landscape unsteady. The bones of the armies of the past buried under the foundation of the fortress, while the sentries gazed coldly out into the blizzard storm. The fortress walls surrounded the central palace, with four entrances surrounded by a frozen river. The insides of the palace were dark, dismal, and confusing. Many different narrow pathways with different hall doors, barely illuminated with torches widely separated by each hall. As if to be a means to confuse the enemies of those who would challenge King Dracul, a monument to the crookedness of its master's character.

A cloaked figure appeared inside the central throne room, were King Dracul himself sat upon a throne of gold and silver, covered with a cloth stained by the blood of his enemies that trailed down as a royal carpet to the main entrance towards the throne room. He came forth a little closer, and kneeled before his king. King Dracul gazed upon his servants' obedience and acknowledged his presence. He would have the first words. “What news from the war front, my servant?” King Dracul requested with a deep booming voice. “Sire, they’ve located the Dragonslayer! He’s traveling from the eastern kingdom into the west, with a young woman whom the drones killed her kin. We’re keeping an eye on them. What are your orders?” the Servant requested to know. King Dracul placed his right hand upon the palm of his chin. “Send word to the reagent blood lords of the northern kingdoms, and to the high lords of the coven of the frozen shadows. ‘You are to hunt down the Dragonslayer and bring him down by any means necessary. No tactic too ambitious, no attack too cruel, no method too despicable if it’s sole purpose is to destroy our foe.’ I will have my revenge upon the slayer before I make my next move,” King Dracul declared. “At once, my Liege,” the Cloaked Figure responded. “Dracarius!” King Dracul bellowed. Dracurius turned around. “See to it, personally,” King Dracul responded. “With pleasure, my Liege,” Dracarius said with a proper courtesy.

The terrors of the nightfall were silent as the Dragonslayer pushed forward. The breeze neither flowed nor whistled as his horse trodded on, the young woman he had rescued unconscious on his steed. “Poor thing. She’s been traumatized by the loss of her loved ones. What the future has in store for her, I cannot say, but she’s lost all that she has because of me. I hope to someday repay the debt back to her,” the Dragonslayer thought to himself. The formation of a village seemed to draw closer as their horses continued at full speed. “Old Man! We will rest here for the night!” the Dragonslayer said aloud. The blood thirsty roars of carnal monsters flung from the air, as the Dragonslayer immediately took note. “Old Man, get back!” the Dragonslayer responded. The Old Man lifted up a silver blade, swiped it across the vampire leg, then pushed him aside as he swiped the blood from his blade and then sheathed it. “Who do you think taught you what you can do, youngster? Do you honestly think my infirmity and old age will hinder my resolve to fight?” the Old Man declared. “We can compare combat skills and the will to fight after we’ve dealt with these monsters. Uptop!” the Dragonslayer shouted. A banshee’s shriek above, in the air between, falling between the branches of two trees attempted to make an impact, but the Old Man simply swiped the upper thigh of a male vampire as it began to melt and fade into ash. Silence struck the forest, as the old man and the Dragonslayer looked at each other, and nodded. “Let’s go! Hyah!” the Dragonslayer ordered. The Old Man followed behind immediately. Glaring eyes lurked under the covering of the trees, a face smiled as it flashed long white teeth. “Now we have you,” the Voice boldly stated.

...

The fountain of silver continued to burst amidst the mansion of a crimson essence of blood red. The diabolical laughter of heinous figures continued while the screams of innocents with beginnings and pleadings until their bloody demise crescendoed one last time. To the children of perdition, all was a playground, a playground that was subject to their interpretation. What was and was not, was fit to their grand design, and all things seemed to always fit their mold. Their wisdom, their experience, their knowledge, everything else was inferior, nothing else but their plans mattered. And yet, some factor continued to trouble their schemes as he relentlessly pushed forward with every strike of silver and every sliver of arrow shot from his bow. It mattered not for the counsel members, for they alone had the vision of how all things would take place.

The counsel sat with four elders.

One in every direction of the four winds.

One for every kingdom in the land of Morganoth,

One to sit as acting ruler for every direction,

For when all direction would be dictated by they alone,

By the authority granted to them by King Dracul,

And they would eternally establish their houses,

By the dominion granted by one.

One to bring damnation to the children of light, the living.

Through it all, and by them alone, all things would be subject,

Subjects to the dreaded King, whose coming was all but nigh,

Whose kingdom resided in the realm of the north,

Only there in the coldest places, where the shadows lie…

To them, it was merely a matter of time for those who lingered with unnatural long life…

“The Dragonslayer continues to walk freely amidst the earth, delaying our inevitable reign upon Morganoth. I will neither tolerate his actions, nor permit his existence. We cannot delay our time any further! He must not be allowed to choose between the light and the dark! He must be forced to remain neutral, at all costs!” the Council Member from the South declared. “Regardless if he does or does not choose, regardless if he can or will make a decision, it has neither an impact on our resolve, nor any hindrance towards our grand design. If the Slayer cannot kill the king but merely injure him, what difference does it make? The Dragonslayer will inevitably fall, regardless as to whatever path he chooses,” The Council Member of the East noted. The Counsel Member of the West stood upright, and firm. “Have you forgotten the prophecies of the light? Of how one who wields the power of the light will inevitably completely destroy the darkness! If this, “Dragonslayer,” is allowed to endure and he is the chosen one, and he makes his choice! He will completely and utterly fulfill the prophecy! The Dragon in the north, our King’s debtor, cannot stand against the Dragonslayer! He will destroy us all!” the Council Member of the West declared.

“Enough!” A voice declared from the North most part. The Council Member sitting on the Northern Council seat, was more fearsome than the others. Cloaked and hooded in the darkest robe of black, with red armor covering his cloth, he reinforced an upright posture in the midst of his fellow council members. “Our Liege has told me to see to it, personally, that this situation must be dealt with. The Dragonslayer, regardless if any ancient prophecies hold merit or are but mere fiction, is to be slaughtered before our master's arrival. Our Liege will not make his move, until the Dragonslayer is dealt with. Keep an eye upon the slayer, and take your time. Attempt to find any weaknesses through the drones, and observe him. Once that is done and we can attempt to exploit some kind of weakness, we will crush him with strategy and tact, grace and startling efficiency. Something befitting of the Lord we serve, and to strike terror into anyone who would dare place their hope in the Dragonslayer. This, will be done. This is the decree and dictate, by King Dracul himself. Rightful heir and King to the four kingdoms, and inevitable ruler of the land Morganoth! All hail King Dracul, son of the dragon!” the Council Member declared. “All hail King Dracul, son of the dragon!” the Council Members reiterated in unison.

…

The night was young, but it seemed prolonged, as the intensity and pressure from the prior attacks took a toll on the duo. Penelope still lay there almost lifeless, as the Dragonslayer dismounted his horse and tied it near the local stable. The Old Man followed him shortly thereafter. “Well, that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” the Old Man asked. “Feh. Those were merely drones. They’re fast, but they’re not the smartest. They haven’t as much control over their bloodlust, and they’re more susceptible to the urge to feed. They were merely pawns. We still need to be diligent! I’ll watch the night post, you rest for the time being,” the Dragonslayer ordered. “I’ll watch the night post, you get some rest first. I would rather you gain some strength first, then I continue to linger. I’ll watch you both,” the Old Man stated. The Dragonslayer scoffed playfully. “You sure you won't fall asleep on me, Old Man?” the Dragonslayer asked. The Old Man smiled. “Didn’t you say we could compare combat capabilities and skills, later?” the Old Man chuckled as he shot back. “Oh fine, you’re win, this time. Keep an eye on things for me, will ya?” the Dragonslayer chuckled. “As you wish,” the Old Man replied.

The sound of a creaking old wooden door arose in the inn, as the Dragonslayer and the Old Man walked in as Penelope was on the Dragonslayer’s back. “Who's there, and where do you come from? Who’s that on your back?” a desperate voice demanded to know from the bar. The Dragonslayer slowly walked forward as he placed Penelope on the table gently. The bartender looked at the girl, he shivered at the sight. “This girl and her carriage were attacked by a group of vampire drones. I saved the girl, but her father and coachmen didn’t survive. I had to slice them with silver in order to make sure they didn’t rise again. Her father was traveling salesmen, apparently,” the Dragonslayer informed. The Bartender saw the young girl's face, and noticed her. “I, I know this girl! Her name is Penelope Worthwrought! Her father, Boris Worthwrought used to come into this village and supply me with varying goods, including food and drink for my inn! So he’s fallen to the vampires? What a shame! He was a friendly and gentle soul, but shrewd in his business dealings! I found it fun just to barter with him! Wait, if you saved them, then that means,” the Innkeeper said with a pause. The Dragonslayer sighed. “Yes, that’s who I am,” the Dragonslayer muttered. The Innkeeper looked in awe, as the Dragonslayer continued forward. “We need to stay in your inn for the night. I have some silver to pay you for your troubles,” the Dragonslayer responded. “No, no, no! By all means! You’ve slain some vampires for us, and protected our village! It would be an honor to have you in my inn!” the Innkeeper stated. The Dragonslayer’s eyes softened, but he remained calm and level headed. “Please, take this. I would rather help you in some way, then leave a debt unpaid. Please, keep this. There will be troubling times ahead!” the Dragonslayer insisted.

The Innkeeper looked, and gave a smile. “You will have breakfast ready in the morning!” the Innkeeper stated. The Dragonslayer sighed. “Very well. If you insist. I won't debate you there,” the Dragonslayer replied. The Old Man chuckled from behind. “I guess even you have a soft spot,” the Old Man lightly teased. “Oh, shut it. You know I prefer to help others then be helped. And you know I hate not being able to pay someone back if they gave me something. I enjoy seeing people smile,” the Dragonslayer noted. The Old Man chuckled. “Despite how viciously you fight, you really are just a big softy,” the Old Man teased. “Watch it,” the Dragonslayer muttered playfully.

The Old Man watched as the Dragonslayer walked up the stairs with Penelope on his shoulders. The Old Man sighed, as he stood his post. The Innkeeper looked as the Old Man stared into the night. “So, how long have you known him?” the Innkeeper asked. The Old Man chuckled. “Oh, since he was a little boy!” the Old Man hinted. The Innkeeper looked at him with shocked eyes. “Then, you must have,” the Innkeeper started to ask. “Train him? Ho ho! You could say that! You could also say he learned some of it on his own. He’s always been a creative soul, that one! His preferences in versatility are something to be considered!” the Old Man hinted. “Versatility? Why’s that?” the Innkeeper asked. “The more adaptable you are, the more capable you can respond. And the more wisdom, knowledge, and understanding you take to heart, the more effective you will be all around! He prefers to be versatile, because of his desire to help others! He’s always loved helping anyone he can, and being versatile helps him help as many different people as he can! The more you know, the more you perceive. The more one can perceive how to respond in a different scenario, the more he can adapt and respond correctly to any given problem that should arise! He prides himself in his versatility, although he even can’t do all things on his own! Such is the supposed bitterness of mortality! Mere breaths upon this earth!” the Old Man chuckled. The Innkeeper merely looked away. “Who is he?” The Innkeeper thought to himself.

Penelope’s body lay upon one twin bed while the Dragonslayer lies upon the other. The Dragonslayer attempted to fall asleep, but he was unable to enter the realm of dreams. The shadows lingered in the room. A stalking darkness seemed to approach from the windowsill, bringing an unyielding cold into the air as he attempted to sleep. His eyes shot open as the darkness swirled before him. He immediately picked up a knife of silver placed upon the wooden table next to hm, waiting for it to take form. It began to manifest into a physical appearance, as the Dragonslayer readied his blade. It finally took full form, as the Dragonslayer sliced it once and it began to wither away it died with banshee’s scream. Penelope stirred from her slumber after hearing the ear piercing scream. “What, what’s going on? Where am I? Who are you?” Penelope asked as she constantly turned her head. She noticed the Dragonslayer placing the silver blade on the table. She started screaming as she noticed the Dragonslayer. “Penelope, calm down!” the Dragonslayer. “Where am I? Who are you? Where is my family?” Penelope started screaming. The sound of steps thundering up the stairs became louder as the door slammed open with the Old Man having his blade drawn. “Relax. A shrouder came in. It slipped through the window and attempted to kill me,” the Dragonslayer said. “And here I thought you two were acquainting,” the Old Man jested. The Dragonslayer scoffed. “Feh. Is if I have any such use for such a bond,” the Dragonslayer boasted. “Wait! What’s that supposed to mean?” Penelope demanded. The Old Man chuckled. “I’ll leave you two alone,” the Old Man joked. “Don’t mock me, Old Man,” the Dragonslayer muttered under his breath. “Ho, ho, ho!” the Old Man continued to joke. The Dragonslayers frustration was becoming more apparent.

“Where am I? And what do you mean you have no use for such a bond?” Penelope asked. The Dragonslayer turned and focused on Penelope. “Oh, well, uh, he thought you and I were… Well you know,” the Dragonslayer responded. Penelope looked at him with big eyes. “Does that mean I’m not pretty?” Penelope asked. The Dragonslayer started becoming nervous. “No, I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just, I barely know you, Penelope! Besides, we have something important to discuss!” the Dragonslayer noted. Penelope looked down for just a second, and realized all that had happened. Tears started flowing down her face. “My father, he’s really,” Penelope started sobbing. The Dragonslayer tried to remain calm and in control in front of her. “I’m sorry, Penelope. There was no other way,” the Dragonslayer responded. Penelope started to put on a pouty face. “This is your fault! If you had shown up sooner, my dad would have been alive! What kind of Dragonslayer allows the vampire to kill the girl's dad? This is ridiculous!” Penelope started whining. “What do you mean, ‘a Dragonslayer doesn’t allow the girl's dad to be killed?’ I got there by mere chance! If I hadn’t gotten there, you would all be dead!” the Dragonslayer scoffed. “Well, this is still all your fault! I had a decent life prior to this! Now what am I going to do?” Penelope demanded to know. The Dragonslayer was becoming visibly annoyed. “What a precious brat. If it gets her off my back, I’ll help her out somehow,” the Dragonslayer stated.

The Dragonslayer sighed. “Fine then. What can we do to help you, Penelope? I guess we do sort of owe you!” the Dragonslayer asked. Penelope put her fingers upon her chin, and consider what she could ask for. Penelope looked up, and gave him a sly smile! The Dragonslayer’s eyes rolled, as he started to groan. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” the Dragonslayer grumbled in his thoughts. “Take me with you forever you go, and protect me from the vampires! That way, I will never have to be afraid of being hunted by the damned! These are my terms! Protect me and take care of me, Dragonslayer!” Penelope demanded. The Draognslayer’s became vexed in spirit. “What is it with this girl? She was just traumatized by vampires devouring her family, and yet she’s trying to tag alongside with me?” the Dragonslayer asked in his thoughts he became irritated. “Couldn’t I just drop you off at one of the local towns, and wouldn’t that be easier?” the Dragonslayer asked lightly as if trying to appease her. “Take me with you, or I’ll tell everyone you failed to protect my family from the vampires,” Penelope said with a stern manipulative voice. The Dragonslayer’s face became beat red, as if steam was about to come blowing out the side of his ears. “I, can’t, believe, I allowed myself to be suckered into this. The Dragonslayer has been conned by a barely twenty year old girl into being her, ‘knight in shining armor.’ I hate this,” the Dragonslayer thought with unyielding fumes burning in the depths of his soul. The Dragonslayer attempted to regain his composure, and released a sigh. “Penelople, I… Fine, you have my word. You can come with us, and I will protect you wherever you go. If that’s what it takes to settle the debt between us, then so be it,” the Dragonslayer groaned. “Yay! My knight in shining armor will never fail to rescue me!” Penelope jumped and started hugging him. The Dragonslayer’s face was beat tomato red. “I, hate, this,” the Dragonslayer thought to himself.

The wooden door creaked open as the Old Man came in and saw the two on the floor. The Dragonslayer started trying to explain with constant babble. “Ho, ho, ho! It seems this Old Man is at long last, one fateful day, going to finally become a Grandpa!” the Old Man started teasing with a light chuckle. “Shut up! Penelope was just excited, that’s all! We have to keep Penelope safe and take her wherever we go from now on! I’ve sworn to protect her due to the fact her family is dead,” the Dragonslayer informed. The Old Man started laughing as he threw his head back. “Oh, I am totally sure that’s the only reason! Oh, the Dragonslayer! Penelope’s, ‘Knight in shining armor,’ Ho, ho, ho!” the Old Man started mocking. “I’ll kill you,” the Dragonslayer started growling with a fierce temper. Penelope scoffed and started pouting. “What’s wrong with being, ‘My knight in shining armor?’ I guess I must not be pretty enough for you, is that it?” Penelope pouted. “The fact you think I’m protecting you because of your physical appearance is beyond me,” the Dragonslayer stated. Penelope became furious. She started slapping him over the head with her hand. “I’ll show you what happens when you tell me I’m not pretty!” Penelope started scolding. “Ow, ow ow! Penelope, stop it!” the Dragonslayer begged. The Old Man started chuckling. “I’ll leave you two love birds alone. Grandpa me, soon to be!” the Old Man lightly teased again sarcastically. “I hate you,” the Dragonslayer muttered. “No you don’t,” the Old Man declared as he walked away laughing while shutting the door.

The Dragonslayer picked himself up while Penelope looked up at him. “So where do we go now?” Penelope asked. “I’m not sure yet. We should resupply and then depending on if there is any news on where the vampires attack or are going, we move in that direction. So, I guess for the time being, we stay here until we have proper direction,” the Dragonslayer stated. “Dragonslayer?” Penelope asked. “Yes?” the Dragonslayer asked. She paused for a split second, but then looked up at him with big eyes. “Thank you. For this and everything else,” Penelope expressed. The Dragonslayer looked at her eyes, and then slowly turned. “Don’t mention it, Penelope. Get some rest,” the Dragonslayer stated as he lay on his bed. Penelope picked herself up, and tucked herself to sleep. She pulled the sheets up and looked up to the ceiling. “I wonder what will happen now? I have the Dragonslayer’s protection, but I may never see people I once knew forever. Perhaps, perhaps when this is all over, I can go visit those I care about,” Penelope thought to herself.

…

A king sat upon this throne. His heart beating rapidly due to the constant fear from the terrors of the night. His heart pondered deeply, and was concerned. “The dreams in my sleep have troubled me, day and night. Night after night, I have endured this recurring dream. I need to have my wiseman attempt to interpret for me,” the King thought aloud. The sound of creaking metal doors arose in the air, as men robbed in brown sackcloth approached the king's presence. “Long live the King! How may we be of service” the man ahead of the other men asked with a light tone and polite courtesy. The King took his hand off his chin, and reinforced an upright posture in the presence of his wisemen. “My wise counselors. I am troubled by a recurring dream that constantly comes to me in the vision of the night. I need you to interpret it for me so that I may know what I must do,” the King informed. “Long live the King! Please tell us the details of the dream, and we will attempt to interpret it for you!” the Wiseman asked. The king remained silenced for a time. “In my dream. There was a dragon and it was devouring all of the major cities. It constantly circled over every territory from the three different kingdoms, and then began to burn and devour every one. But then, a silver sword came from the ground and pierced the heart of the dragon, and the kingdoms became safe. Tell me, what does this dream mean?” the King requested.

The Wisemen considered what he had said, then the leading one stepped forward confidently. “Long live the King! The dragon is a representation of King Dracul, and the silver sword piercing the heart is a representation of the Dragonslayer! If the King’s dream is divinely sent, then it must mean that King Dracul still lives, and the Dragonslayer is needed!” the Wiseman declared. But the King looked confused. “How could King Dracul return when the Dragonslayer already killed him? If what you say is true, then that would mean that King Dracul is not dead!” the King demanded to know. “The stories do say that the Dragonslayer is waiting for the day his enemies would return. My King, I have counsel for you: Find the Dragonslayer and request his aid! I believe this story is a warning from the Eternal, and that you cannot delay!” the Wiseman declared.

The King gave thought to his situation, but inevitably gave a sigh. “Send word to every corner of the three kingdoms! The Dragonslayer is needed and the kingdoms are endangered! By order of King Boris Johnston: The Dragonslayer’s presence is needed in the western kingdom by the king's request. You are to find the Dragonslayer and grant him safe passage into my kingdom. Do not delay any further! This is the decree from King Boris Johnston, King and acting ruler of the western kingdom! Long live the king!” the King declared. “Long live the King!” the room boldly responded. The King sat upon his throne, his heart troubled by the situation. “King Dracul’s return. I pray that this story is but mere myth and legend, but I fear it is so. Better to make preparations and take precautions, then to blindly disregard the warning signs and to fall by the might of the damned,” the King thought to himself.

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https://www.instagram.com/cccreativewriter/

https://www.inkitt.com/stories/fantasy/610198/chapters/4

https://vocal.media/geeks/a-new-adventure-rbbdt50ec0

https://vocal.media/criminal/the-treading-of-the-winepress

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https://vocal.media/poets/refined-and-approved

https://vocal.media/poets/regardless-of-what-i-will-still

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https://vocal.media/petlife/all-suffering-will-be-equal