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throne of the dark king
chapter nine

Written by Alex Hera

“Then let’s go down. I don’t have any intention of dying in a damp wizard’s tower,” said Adair.

Florian reached into their sleeve and began pulling out a colorful handkerchief, which took some time, as it was several yards long. The jester handed it to Adair. He attempted to bundle it up into a usable size, and wiped his tear-stricken face. His thoughts drifted to how far they had travelled, how much time had passed since he had departed with Cassian, excited about what their adventure may bring. How foolish that was.

Florian made their way towards the stairs, eyes strained as the torch cast a dim light on the descending steps. The further down they looked, the more ancient the stone work was. It didn’t match the rest of the tower.

“Bruno?” called the jester. “You should come take a look at–”

Before they could finish, a rumbling emanated from the top of the wizard tower. Florian looked up as Bruno and Adair ran to their side. Dust and small stone chips began to rain down on them as the tower began to shake. There was a low, inhuman growl. The criminal brought his hand to the hilt of the chainsword. A black, slender limb from a massive creature smashed through the wall of the tower. The ascending stairs collapsed and stone bricks began to fall around them. A piece of rubble struck Florian’s temple. Blood trickled down the side of the jester’s head and seamlessly blended with the red cloth of their shirt.

“Downstairs!” yelled Adair, grabbing Florian’s hand and pulling the jester to their feet. The party rushed down the stairs, tripping over their own feet and narrowly avoiding a number of broken and missing steps. Their heavy footfalls on the cracked stair caused some to break and fall a great distance to the bottom of the tower. Florian’s observation about the construction held true as they descended down the winding spiral stairs, the walls and stone growing older around them the deeper they went. Eventually, they reached the bottom; a basement made of decaying, mossy stone, coated in cobwebs.. The rumbling grew quieter and further away. The jester’s torch was still lit, providing just enough light to see the intricately constructed walls.

“Bruno… what is this place?” Adair asked.

“This architecture is very old – and it’s not from our people,” said Bruno. “Arcturus unearthed something here. What, I don’t quite know.”

He wandered further into the basement – and noticed that it was not a basement, but an oblong cavern hollowed out in the Earth with a pristinely excavated mural jutting out of the rock on the far end. The scribe gestured for Florian and Adair to follow. He recognized the care Arcturus put into exhuming the site and, in some small way, admired the wizard’s archaeological talent and pristine handiwork. The mural, amidst many lines of incomprehensible runic carvings, depicted a group of men worshipping a tall, slender creature with elongated limbs and no face. Around them, other creatures were carved – a large spider, a dragon with a humanoid body, a writhing bundle of tentacles – and above them, dozens of stars and constellations.

“What is it meant to show us?” asked Florian.

“A god, I believe. Or a demon. One which came from the heavens,” said Bruno.

There was a scuttling behind them. Adair spun around and the jester lept back, letting the mural fall into shadow. At the edge of the torch’s glow, on the other side of the cavern, they could faintly make out a tall, humanoid shape. Its pale, white face glinted in the orange light.

“The demon has come for us,” said the criminal.

Slowly, the creature’s torso elongated and from its back, new limbs sprouted – thin, iridescent wings. The squelching sound of flesh stretching and sickening snaps of sinew tearing and reforming echoed through the cavern as Florian and Bruno held their breath, helpless in the gaze of this dark God. There was no mistaking what the creature was transmuting into – a dragon.

Its body expanded to fill the cavern, straining against the rock above and, after a moment, pushing through it. One of its long, thin black arms reached out, slender fingers wrapping around the three survivors. The roof caved in as the dragon erupted from the Earth and lifted Bruno, Florian, and Adair above ground. Dirt and stone poured down its body as it flapped its wings to shake off the debris. In the light, they could understand the true scale of the creature, a solid black, slender, humanoid body with wings jutting out from its back, as large as any dragon of myth.

Gently, it placed the trio on the ground and stood before them. They gazed into its featureless face. They were right back where they started in front of the tower – though it was now reduced to mere rubble, swallowed by the gorge in the Earth from which the dragon had emerged. Bruno and Florian stumbled backwards in terror. Adair’s eyes darted around the field, to the bodies of Cassian and the Knight, and then towards the treeline dozens of yards away. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. Could they possibly fight back against this gargantuan creature and escape into the forest? Even if they could traverse the distance before being killed, wouldn’t it just follow them? Was there any hope of taking it down? Or should they just… give in, like the demon wanted? The townspeople had bought themselves time by doing it… so why couldn’t they?

Art by Sage / HerbalSpecialTea