Where the Dragons Fall

Chapter One: The Desperate King.

There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley.

The dragons were simply a new addition to the fear that plagued the citadel. A curse that they never had thought possible. It had pushed the peasants closer to the towering walls. Flaming breaths of the disastrous beings devastated the crop they worked tirelessly on. The beast picked off the cattle and carried it off. The prosperous valley desecrated by creatures not even the knights could slaughter.

The kingdom pleaded for it’s king to save them, but the man was at a loss.

A month into the infestation, is when the King caved and sent out messengers. Hoping to reach new lands, people far beyond the castle, and to reach past the seas. Looking for a knight, for anyone, to help his kingdom with their unusual problem. The one that took his people and was beginning to kill his land. Everyday was another day to pray that they would live through the night.

It took two weeks for a newcomer to pass through the castle walls.

Just like there weren't always dragons in the Valley, there weren't always warlocks standing before the King's court. The tension was clear as day. The way men and women shifted in their seats at the confident gait of a man that they had been taught to fear. The King had killed many magic users. Forced his hate down their throats before many could even walk.

Whatever had possessed this man to strut into this Kingdom and belittle their ways by simply existing was powerful. He spoke like he couldn't be touched. Gazed at them as if they were merely cattle. He held no fear. Talk of his entrance had made it to the peasants fast and curiosity spread like a wildfire. His eyes would linger on the tower, and from there, someone stared back.

“Are you sure you can do this?” The king’s blonde hair haloed in gold from his circlet. The vibrant light of the coming dawn highlighting his sharp features and blue eyes. He speaks softly despite the fact there is more than just the two of them in the throne room. The king's eyes are casted out the window to the valley. He’s paler and thinner than he used to be. Worn out from age and stress. The blue robes he wears hang loosely on him, but fails to make him any less intimidating. He turns his gaze to the other.

The man who came to their rescue looks nothing like a knight. The chest plate he wears is new, much like the rest of his armor. On his back is a white cape that graced the floor quietly. He has an air around him that causes the others to stare. The man is used to lingering gazes.

“I’m risking a lot in believing you, my whole kingdom could perish and with it my heart.”

“I’m certain. I am the magnificent Guy,” The man says. “My magic is otherworldly. Even King’s and God’s alike will cower before me. A dragon is child's play to someone of my caliber.”

“And what do you get out of this, young warlock?” The king hides his disgust well. The urge to hurt the man for being so arrogant lies tightly in his chest. The magic user laughs. The King’s gaze hardens, but he doesn’t berate the boy like he should.

The warlock is soft featured and young. His eyes are dark and hair unnaturally light. He has a hard time believing this man is even human. His chest never rises and falls hard with nervousness like it should be when confronted with the King. His eyes bestowed the King with an unusual feeling of dread. Even now, the king adverts his eyes to look at the shine of his chest plate instead of the warlock's eyes.

“What I desire is from the dragons themselves, nothing of material gain could satisfy my wishes.” Guy begins to have an odd look. A desperation that hisses under his skin like his magic. It makes the noblemen who watch grow weary. The warlock takes a step closer toward the king. “However, your majesty, I do want a reward for my efforts. My life will be on the line.”

“What is the reward you desire?” The King is reluctant to even ask. The warlock smirks and leans toward the king. His eyes are alight with a mischief that crawls over the King's skin. If there were ever a moment that felt like he was speaking to a demon, now would be it.

“I want your son.”

The silence was deafening. The many nobles began to whisper amongst each other. Guy keeps his gaze steady on the King who looks horrified. The warlock can only imagine what is going through the King’s thoughts. Many people have voiced their theories under the assumption Guy could not hear them.

“I have heard great things about him. He is an excellent hunter, a kind man, and an adequate reward for saving the kingdom. I've also heard you have a tendency to keep him locked in the tower. I want to understand why, if he's so great, is he bound to those tower walls and not by your side instead.”

“No.”

“Your Kingdom or your son, you can pick, your majesty.”

The king huffs in anger and shakes his head. His ears are red from the fury building in his gut. The warlock doesn’t seem phased by the frustration. He knows the King has been put into a tough spot. He needs the man to agree. To hand over the person who had captured his thoughts for nearly two decades. The King speaks again. “It sounds as if you’re asking his hand in marriage! This is preposterous! Pick a different reward!”

“What if I was? Asking for his hand? Would you let your Kingdom die for the sake of your bigotry?” The warlock teases. "Truly, I just want him to join me. To see the other side of the hate you've cultivated."

“I won’t allow it,” The King shouts. Standing from his throne and moving toward the man who doesn’t flinch. The King is taller than him and he looks up to keep his gaze with him. “You’re a devil, I will not let my son be tainted-,”

“Then I should be on my way then. Hope you can come up with a solution for your dragon problem on your own.” Guy says nonchalantly, he turns on his heels and walks towards the large doors with his head held high. It only takes the time for him to touch the handles for the King to call out again.

“I'll grant you your reward, under one condition." The warlock stops. He looks over his shoulder to listen to his demands. The King's anger from before is now cultivated into a worry that runs deeper than simply caring for his son's safety. Guy can sense his hesitation. "My request is that you do not, under any circumstance, use magic on him."

The warlock stares at the king. "Even if he is to die? I should still refrain from using my magic?"

"Even then, I'd rather he die untainted by your ways." The warlock scoffs at his words. It's an odd request, but Guy doesn't truly care. The Prince is important, even if they've never truly met, he wouldn't let anything happen to him.

“I’m leaving at dawn, make sure he’s ready for me at the palace gates.” The warlock says, his biting words kept between soft lips. "If he's not there, then I hope your God will help you."

The King grits his teeth at the flashy warlock but doesn’t say anything. The kingdom was at stake, he couldn’t risk upsetting his only hope. He takes a deep breath and with a heavy heart, he calls a servant to fetch his unwitting son.

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At dawn the King and the Prince stand at the palace gates, two horses trailing behind them to greet the warlock. The man smiles at them, and the Prince keeps his eyes on the ground. He’s dressed in armor and a sword graces both sides of his hips. He looks much like his father. Blonde hair and bright eyes, but he obviously gained the features from his mother. He’s strong, but his heart is fragile. The warlock can sense it in him.

“Ah, hello Prince Edward!” The warlock greeted and the man lifted his head finally to meet his gaze. The warlock has already mounted onto the white horse the king had provided. He looked elegant. The warlock was a beautiful man, and if he had grown his hair out he could be mistaken for a woman. Small, but not frail in stature. “I see your father has decided you were allowed to join me!”

“Didn’t have any other choice, did I?” The prince asks, eyebrow raised in taunt, making the warlock smile wider. The prince rolls his eyes and gets on the black horse he had brought. He settles on the steeds back and looks at the warlock. “We need to go now, the dragons are worse at night.”

“As you wish, your royal highness.”

“We’ll come back once the dragons are killed.” The warlock explains. The King’s hands are shaking with anger.

They take off with quick farewells and ride out into the dreaded forest that led to the valley. The prince had made this journey too many times, and came back unsuccessful and defeated. The sun rises high into the sky. The forest gives them shade through thin leaves. The animals scatter at the sound of the horses feet on soft soil. The birds sing an unheard tune, but the silence is near deafening. The prince has yet to say a word.

“Do you usually ride in silence?”

“Do you usually feel the need to speak?” The prince snaps. The warlock frowns and taps the side of his horse to ride by the prince's side. He leans forward so his chest is against the steeds' mane to look at the stony features of the prince. He keeps his gaze purposefully away from the warlock. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Then I’ll simply talk at you,” The warlock smirks before pulling back up to sit correctly in the saddle.

“First of all, my plan is very simple. I’m looking for my pet familiar and my ticket to immortality.” The warlock explains, his voice light and cheery despite the death these woods hold. “The blood of a dragon can cure all illnesses with the right potion worker, that’s me by the way, in case you're curious-,”

“I’m not.”

“Come on Edward-,”

“You address me as Prince Edward, we are not friends, and you will never be my friend.”

The warlock blinks in surprise and then scoffs at the prince. They ride in silence for a few more minutes before they begin to hear it. Guy perks up at the sound and the prince swings off the horse and unsheathes his blade. His eyes dart over the shrubbery before looking over to a dark cave.

The hissing sound grows until they see it. It’s big. It’s familiar.

"Oh my! We're not even at the Valley yet," The warlock said. His eyes alight with excitement. "They're getting closer now that no one is in the village, they're truly so smart. A good invasive species I would say."

The prince shushes him. This was one of the many beasts that had killed his men. The one he was hoping he wouldn’t encounter again. It was as if the dragon liked hunting his men. Killing off the defenseless villagers without mercy. The beast didn’t even eat the humans, it just killed them for fun.

The warlock waves his hand at the beast with a vibrant smile. The Prince wanted to snap at him. The man doesn't even seem fearful of the dragon that has certainly made appearances in his nightmares. His shoulders are lax and he hasn't even drawn his sword.

The black scaly head of a dragon peers out of the rock and it’s lips curl into a harsh growl. The rumble of it’s chest can be felt from where they stand. He slowly comes out of the cave and flares it’s leathery wings to intimidate them. It's tall and domineering. The horses whine and try to run off while Guy swings his leg over the saddle to stand beside the prince.

He put's his hands on his hips as the beast roars at them. The trees rattle at the power and the birds take off into the sky like an omen. The animals scatter while they can, much like the prince wishes he could. They stand no chance against this creature. The King had been certain that he would return from his journey, but now that he stands next to the careless Guy, he wonders if he was just simply bait.

It holds its head up high and the heat that accumulates before a spell of fire falls from its lips makes the Prince shudder. He pulls himself into a stance to protect the warlock, because it feels natural to be the buffer between the world and Guy. He knows it's hopeless. He's a man against a hell incarnate. The Prince holds steady despite his heart racing so fast it might leave a heart shaped indent on his chest plate.

The Dragon opens its mouth and the Prince grips his sword.

The Prince prays, and prepares to fight for his life.

Today would be his last day alive.