The Hunt for the Dragon King, page 1
The Hunt for the Dragon King
The Hunt Begins
Harrison McArthur
The Hunt for the Dragon King
Copyright © 2022 by Harrison McArthur
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Tellwell Talent
www.tellwell.ca
ISBN
978-0-2288-2371-1 (Hardcover)
978-0-2288-2372-8 (Paperback)
978-0-2288-2370-4 (eBook)
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Lessons in History
Interlude - Silent Regrets
Chapter 2 - A Young Life
Chapter 3 - The Hunt Begins
Interlude - Dawn
Chapter 4 - From the Depths Shall They Come
Chapter 5 - All In Due Time…
Prologue
The world is a dark and dangerous place, filled with the cunning evil of the Great Deceiver. For many years his silent will has been enforced by those who do his bidding both knowingly and unknowingly. All have suffered under his rule because his power is complete. Yet there is a story that is hidden from his evil sight that tells of his downfall. A great journey must be taken by two who were foretold in the deeps of time. They must endure many hardships and trials of both body and spirit. They must hunt for the only thing that can end the rule of the great enemy. They must hunt for the Dragon King.
Chapter 1
Lessons in History
The reading room was small but comfortable. The numerous bookshelves that lined the walls were stuffed with old tomes and dusty scrolls. Two comfy armchairs sat near the window while the fire burned in the stone hearth.
When the door creaked open a young she-elf and an old man walked in.
He was a tall, thin man with a head that seemed disproportionally large for the rest of his lean body. A small black goatee jutted out from his narrow chin. His nose was long and tapered to a tiny point and on the bridge of it sat a small pair of brass-rimmed reading glasses. He was completely bald except for the black hair on the sides of his head. His clothing seemed too large for his skinny frame: a white shirt, a dark brown waistcoat, gray trousers, a pair black leather shoes and a dark red fez. On his right wrist sat a gold armband that jingled and jangled with each movement of his body.
The girl was a young, frail-looking child who stood only 4 and a half feet tall. She wore a sky-blue dress with a white ribbon tied in her long blazing red hair. Her face had the glow of youth and her bright blue eyes were keen and intelligent. Her ears were pointed.
“What story are you going to read to me today?” asked the girl.
“Well, Myra,” replied the old man, “I am going to read to you the legend about the origin of the Dragon King.”
“Is it a very long story?” asked Myra.
“Well, I would have to say yes,” answered Mr. Goatmen.
“Will I like it very much?” asked Myra.
“I think that you will fall in love with it,” chuckled the old man.
When the two of them sat down by the hearth Mr. Goatmen cracked open the spine of a green leather-bound book. The words were handwritten on pages of yellowing parchment.
“The legend of the Dragon King began a long, long time ago,” read Mr. Goatmen. “It was a time when the mortal races still used swords and shields in war; it was a time where we hadn’t yet discovered all the modern marvels that we have today. It was a simpler time but its problems and worries were far from simple. This is the time in history where the legend of the Dragon King began.
“His beginnings were very humble, compared to the glory he would earn later in his life but with that detail set aside, this is how it all began.
“Deep in the wild and forested lands of Arthuriea, a young dragoness lay at the open mouth of her high forest cave that was delved into the side of a hill. She was lonely because she had no family, no children and no husband.”
Mr. Goatmen paused and looked up at Myra.
“Dragons, my pupil, are very social creatures and are always together wherever they go. But this dragoness had no one. Would you care to wager a guess as to why this was?”
“Well, perhaps this dragoness was alone because she lost her flock,” offered Myra.
“Possibly,” said Mr. Goatmen. “I doubt that we will ever truly know why the dragoness was alone. The cause has been forgotten.”
Mr. Goatmen continued reading:
“The Dragoness had wished for her own family for many years. She wept because her deepest desire was left unanswered.
“She awoke from her dreamless sleep and looked out over the vast green forests and at the high mountains. It was a beautiful sight but it did not please her or raise her spirits. All around her were wild things; living, dying, giving birth and being born. This pained her because she was still alone.
“She suddenly heard a wailing cry from underneath her. She looked down from her hillside cave to the clearing below. To her great surprise she saw a human woman lying on the ground with an infant child crying in her arms. The mother was gravely injured. She had three black arrows stuck in her back.”
“Where did the woman and baby come from, Mr. Goatmen?” interrupted Myra.
“I cannot say for certain,” answered the old man. “This was a time when war was common amongst men and monsters. In this period of history, however, humans and elves never ventured into the forests of Arthuriea. I assume that the woman and her child had escaped a battle. The woods was the only place for them to hide. Now where was I?”
Mr. Goatmen looked back down at the old book and continued reading:
“The dragoness knew that the woman would not last long. The blood flowed freely from her wounds. She, however, did not seem concerned that her life was coming to an end. She only comforted and soothed her crying infant.
“When the dragoness stood up she made her way to the woman and stood towering over them both.”
“She’s not going to eat them, is she?” cried Myra.
“O good heavens, no!” scoffed Mr. Goatmen. “Really Myra! I must say your imagination is getting ahead of you. Do you really think I would read a story to you if that was going to happen?”
“Well, no I guess not,” admitted Myra.
“Good,” said Mr. Goatmen. “Now listen to what happens next. This is the important part.”
Mr. Goatmen continued reading:
“The Dragoness looked down at the woman and infant and saw that the mother was weeping.”
“‘Have you come to eat me?’ asked the woman through her tears.
“‘No I have not,’ the dragoness replied. ‘I have come to heal your wounds.’
“‘I thank you for your kindness,’ the woman said, ‘but I am afraid that it is too late. I am dying.’ The infant in her arms wailed and she tried once again to sooth him.
“‘I do not fear my end,’ said the woman. ‘I only dread what will happen to my son. Dragoness, is there any settlement of my kinsfolk nearby?’
“‘No,’ replied the dragoness, ‘there is none. You and your son are the first of your kind that I have ever seen in these forests.’
“‘Then it is as I feared,’ cried the woman. ‘I shall die alone in the woods and my son will be abandoned to his fate!’
“‘You shall not die alone,’ said the dragoness. ‘I will stay by you. I will take care of your child and keep him safe. I will also raise him as my own!’
“The woman looked up in awe at the dragoness and said, ‘You would protect my son? O dragoness, I bless you! Thank you.’
“When the sun set below the horizon the woman died. The dragoness buried her and raised a mound to mark her grave.
“The dragoness named the human child Draco. She loved him as if he were her own flesh and blood. Her heart was lifted and filled with joy because her wish for a family had at last been answered. She deeply regretted that the woman had to die so she could have a child of her own.
“When her human son was old enough to understand his origins the dragoness brought him to his birthmother’s burial mound. She told Draco of how she had promised to look after him and how his true mother had died.
“‘I am certain, Draco, that if your mother could see you now she would be proud of the boy that you have grown into,’ said the dragoness.
“‘My birthmother would be proud of you as well,’ said Draco. ‘Without you I would have died. You may be a dragoness but you are the only mother I know.’
“The dragoness and Draco embraced each other and then returned to their hillside cave.
“When Draco was growing up in the lands of Arthuriea he made friends with all the creatures that lived in the woods: the birds, the deer, the bears, the boars and bees. They played many games with Draco and kept him safe when his dragon mother was away.
“One day Draco went into the woods to look for his wolf friends but he could not find them. He searched along the riverbanks, through the grassy meadows and up into the hills.
“Thinking
“What was the Deeping Wood?” interrupted Myra.
“Be patient a moment longer and you’ll find out,” replied Mr. Goatmen.
“The Deeping Wood was the oldest grove of trees in Arthuriea,” the old man read. “The trees that grew there stood so closely to each other that their leafy boughs blocked out the sunlight. Their roots and branches were twisted and covered in gnarled grey bark. Moss hung from the lower limbs and the leaves were black and very broad. The Deeping Wood was a very frightening place. Draco had never before gone into that part of the forest. He secretly feared that he would become lost in the murky darkness. He summoned his courage and together with his animal friends plunged into the unknown grove.
“Draco and the others began calling out to the wolves but their voices were swallowed up by the looming silence of the forest. The only light that there was came from a swarm of fireflies. They sparked and twinkled in the heavy air.
“Draco led the way as the search went further into the woods. Two hours passed by and still there was no sign of the wolves. Draco was about to give up and turn towards home when he saw something.”
“What is it?” asked Myra. “What did he see?”
“Draco saw a shaft of bright light in the distance and dashed towards it,” read Mr. Goatmen. “He wanted to feel the sun on his face again and to get away from the oppressive darkness. When he reached the beam of light he was standing in a clearing with the sun burning brightly overhead.
“‘I never knew how much I could miss sunlight until now,’ said Draco as he basked in the warm rays.
“When he spoke these words he became aware that he was not alone. He spun around and saw a pair of pale green eyes gazing at him from the shadows.
“‘Who are you?’ Draco demanded, ‘Show yourself at once!’
“The boy was relieved when he saw that it was one of his wolf friends named Wiglaf.
“‘Wiglaf, what are you doing here?’ Draco asked.
“‘I have been meeting with my friends,’ replied Wiglaf.
“‘O? And who are these friends of yours, may I ask?’ queried Draco.
“‘They’re my friends,’ answered Wiglaf. ‘The other wolves and I have come here to meet them.’
“‘Who are your friends Wiglaf?’ asked Draco who was becoming annoyed with his wolf friend.
“‘They call themselves Arthurians,’ answered Wiglaf. ‘And Draco, you’ll be surprised to learn that they look exactly like you!’
“Draco was indeed startled to hear this news. His dragon mother had told him about the races of men and elves. He, however, had never seen one before.
“‘Where are they Wiglaf?’ cried Draco, ‘Take me to them. I must see them for myself!’
“‘Follow me, Draco!’ barked the wolf as he bounded off into the shadows of the trees. Draco raced after him. They darted between the trees and crashed noisily through the undergrowth. Soon Wiglaf had led the boy to a river that bubbled up from an underground spring. Gathered along the banks were the rest of the missing wolves. A creature that looked almost exactly like Draco was standing in the centre of them.
“Draco froze when he saw this being for the first time. He gazed at it and it gazed back at him. Finally the creature walked towards Draco with its hand outstretched.
“‘Greetings to you,’ it said to Draco. “You are a sight I never thought I would see. A son of mankind near the heart of my wood!’
“Draco took hold of the creature’s hand and asked him who he was.
“‘I am Vinr,’ said the creature, ‘I am an Arthurian.’”
“What’s an Arthurian?” Myra asked curiously.
“Be patient Myra,” replied the old man. “We’re getting to that.”
“The Arthurian people were an immortal race that were descended from both elves and men. They were a proud and mighty nation whose warriors and heroes became legends in their own time. It had been many, many years since anyone from the outside world had seen them. Draco was the first in over a century. He met with Vinr who lived with his wife and two children in a longhouse deep in the forest,” continued Mr. Goatmen. “Draco became good friends with Vinr’s son, Zalinda. While Draco visited the Arthurian family he learned that they were not the only ones to have settled in the forests. Many more homesteads had been built and the number of Arthurians began to rise from a few families to a strong community. They became so numerous that a walled village was built in the heart of the wood. Vinr, a powerful chieftain, was the leader of the Tribe of Dragons and was chosen to lead the town.”
“What did it mean ‘Tribe of Dragons’?” asked Myra.
“Myra, you are full of curiosity today, aren’t you?” said Mr. Goatmen with an exasperated sigh. “Be patient and listen.
The old man continued reading:
“The Arthurians had 10 tribes: Dragon, Wolf, Bear, Stag, Owl, Boar, Hare, Dove, Crow and the Seers. Vinr was the leader of the Tribe of Dragons and his son Zalinda was his heir.
“Draco didn’t tell his dragon-mother about his visits to the Arthurians. Instead, he would tell her that he was going to play with his animal friends. One day she became suspicious of what Draco was doing so she decided to follow him. She flew high in the sky so that Draco would not see her. She watched him far below with her sharp eyes and tracked him all the way to the Arthurians.
“The dragoness was surprised to see the longhouses, the tilled fields and the Arthurians. The men were working in the fields while the women tended to the flocks. None of them could see the dragoness as she flew high above them.
“She looked down and saw Draco who was near the centre of the settlement. He was standing close by the mead hall.”
“What’s a mead hall?” asked Myra.
“A mead hall is like the main building in the village,” answered Mr. Goatmen. “Think of it like the City Hall or the mayor’s house. It’s where people meet to sort out their problems or to celebrate some event.”
“So it’s sort of like a combination of City Hall and the Pig’s Pipe Pub?” asked Myra.
“Yes, I suppose that’s an accurate assumption,” chuckled Mr. Goatmen as he continued reading:
“The dragoness looked down and saw that Draco was fighting an Arthurian boy who was armed with a sword. Her protective instincts overcame her and she swooped down out of the sky like a falling star. Fire leapt from her roaring jaws and her massive red wings beat the air with a thunderous noise.
“The ground shook with a mighty boom when the dragoness landed. She roared and breathed fire up into the air. She had alighted between her Draco and the Arthurian boy who had fallen backwards with terror. The dragoness was soon surrounded by the other Arthurians who were armed with shovels, rakes and staves. The dragoness was about to set them afire when Draco rushed out in front. His arms were outstretched for his mother to see.
“‘No! No!’ he cried out, ‘Don’t hurt them! I am in no danger!’
“The dragoness looked down at the Arthurian boy who was holding the sword. She saw that the weapon was only made out of wood. The only arms that were present were the farm tools. When the dragoness realized this she lowered her claws and extinguished her fire.
“She apologised to the Arthurians for frightening them. She then asked Draco what the Arthurian boy and he were doing.
“‘I was helping Zalinda practise with his sword fighting,’ answered Draco. ‘We were only play fighting. We wouldn’t really have hurt each other.’
“‘Why do you want to learn how to use a sword?’ asked the dragoness.
