With much struggle, they got the man inside the infirmary. The King and Christopher stood before his bed, while healers attended to his wounds. Cormac was a skinny sliver of a man, muscles all shriveled up and nearly every bone in his body clearly visible through his flabby skin. He reeked of fire and death. This man was dying, Christopher knew. Still, there was something familiar about him. The healers managed to calm him down enough that he was no longer continually moaning, then told the King that he could begin questioning the wizard. He did so, “Who did this to you?”
“It was a spirit I tell you,” Cormac replied, the madness clearly evident in his eyes.
“What was the spirit’s name?” The King asked firmly.
Fear. That was all the man could express. He opened his quivering mouth as if to speak, but just then a screeching roar came booming through the castle. Now they all expressed fear to varying degrees. Cormac’s face as white as the snow covering the peaks of the Moral Mountains, Christopher’s heart was racing, the King looking around. Christopher’s hand automatically went to his side where his sword rested. Cormac’s eyes followed, and he saw a dagger sheathed just below the sword.
“Never again, Caesar,” Cormac whispered as he reached out and pulled the dagger from Christopher’s tunic and drove it into his chest.
“Cormac…” Christopher said glumly.
The King watched with saddened acceptance. He put his hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Christopher, that sound was a dragon.” The young man looked at his Father, then began noticing the healers frantically running around, trying to move patients away from the outer wall. “Go, assist the guard,” the King went on.
Only when Christopher left the infirmary did the words his Father had spoken to him sink in. A dragon. Could it be the dragon? The one that destroyed his entire village, killed his parents and all his friends? Oh, how he’d love to slay the beast. He ran to the main entrance of the castle, noticing how furiously the royal guard organized to eliminate the threat. The prince ran across the courtyard, but as soon as he reached the nearest member of the royal guard, the dragon was already flying away. Is it afraid of me? For a moment, Christopher had a surge of pride; but that moment was cut short when he looked more closely at the beast. It had something it is hind claw.
“What did it get off with?” Christopher demand of the nearest guard member.
“Your Highness,” the man gave a slight bow, “I am not absolute in my certainty, however, I do believe it was one of the arcane trainees.”
Christopher’s eyes narrowed. Sternly he asked, “What trainee?”
“What is going on here?” The King’s voice called. Both sets of eyes flashed towards the direction of the voice. The guard member dropped to one knee; Christopher remained standing.
After a short moment of silence, the prince spoke up, “He was just about to explain that to me.”
“Rise,” the King said to the member of the guard. He did so. “Tell me,” He continued in a soft voice, “what happened?”
“Your majesty,” he replied, “I was in the north watchtower looking out across the land. I see a black speck out in the sky. It appeared to be getting closer to the castle, so I called to my partner to see what she could make out. She peered out and could confirm it was indeed getting closer. She told me she would get ready to sound the alarm, and began walking towards it. I looked back at the speck, which I could now make out as a dragon. I yelled at my partner to hurry, as the situation was growing increasingly urgent. She broke out into a run, but before she could reach it, the dragon threw a ball of fire out at her and she was consumed by it. What happened after that was a blur, but the dragon continued to rain destruction down upon the castle. We thought we were all going to die, but before long, one of the newest arcane trainees came out and started fighting it with more strength than I had seen any of the arcane use. The dragon saw her, then swooped in and picked her up, then left us.”
During the telling of the story, the King’s face had grown somber. “Christina was the trainee; blonde hair, very athletic?”
“Yes, that was her.” At this point, all Christopher could feel was fury. Fury. How could he have let this happen?
“My son,” the King said as He turned to him. Christopher’s eyes darted towards his Father’s. “You must go rescue her. She is more powerful than any who have come before her. There is something more at work here. I know it.”
“I will go, Father. But won’t You come with me?”
“I cannot,” He replied. “I must remain here and see to the care of the people. This is your battle to fight. Take Cynthia with you; she will be a great help to you on this journey.” He turned to the guard member and said, “What way did the dragon go?”
“North, towards the Moral Mountains,” the guard responded.
Turning back to His son, the King said, “You should leave immediately. Time is of the utmost importance.”
“I will, Father.”
Christopher did so. He ran over to the royal stable and began preparing his horse. Before he had gotten too far, he heard a voice behind him; “This is exciting.” It was Cynthia.
He half-rolled his eyes then said, “It’s only a day ride to the Moral Mountains, and when we’re there it won’t be easy. And it’s not exciting, it’s important.”
“Okay, whatever,” she replied. “I got the food and shelter if we need it.”
“We shouldn’t,” Christopher said a bit harshly. “Are you ready to head out?”
“I am.”
“Prepare your horse. We’re about to leave.” She did so. Once both horses were ready, they left the burning castle in pursuit of the beast.
4: The Journey