Blood Immortal

Dragons’ Descent

After another long journey of sailing across the ocean, Aarian and his comrades arrived at the accursed land of Vlydyn. It had taken them a total of twelve weeks to travel there. A thick mist hampered their vision for a while. When the Guardians of Xen were only a few miles away from the continent, they could finally see what remained of Fal’shar. One of the orcs steered the main vessel toward one of the decrepit and abandoned docks that had once belonged to the dark elves while trolls jumped off and moored the ship to a wooden bollard that looked rotten.

Setting foot on Vlydyn wasn’t easy for Aarian. In fact, he strangely found it to be a lot more difficult than vanquishing the dark elves from Lar’a’dos. The field that lay before him was a wasteland. Most of the ground before him had cracks with steam billowing as if magma flowed beneath him, yearning to spew out. There were no trees, bushes, flowers, animals, or any sign of life as he gazed at the barren continent.

Looking ahead, Aarian noticed that even the gargantuan mountains of Tor’kales had been tainted. Now they stood as volcanic titans, smoke rising from their ruptured peaks. The heavens above the mountainous region had a red tinge, lava sporadically discharging.

“I can’t believe this,” muttered Aarian. “I just can’t.”

The Guardians of Xen disembarked from their vessel and stood beside Aarian, gawking at the desecrated landscape while trying to feel his pain. Putting themselves in his place wasn’t something they could do, but if their brethren had been annihilated like Aarian’s race, they’d show no mercy; and so they vowed to fight as though the demons had killed their own kind. Parla’vasa and Xel’vakora, who joined them as new members of guardians, also stood by the prince’s side.

“I sincerely hope Earamathras comes soon,” said Xel’vakora.

“Don’t rush His Imperial Majesty,” grunted Warlord Varkagorsa. “He flew all the way back to Niratredam in a humble attempt to convince the absurd dwarves to join our cause. If he comes soon we’ll be lucky.”

When six hours passed, and more ships arrived by the dilapidated dock, they heard a roar in the distance.

“Could it be?” said Varkagorsa.

Shakar howled with delight, gazing at the sky above the ocean.

“It is time, Aarian,” said Parla’vasa, gently rubbing his back. “You have set foot on your homeland again. But now we must join the emperor.”

Earamathras descended from the cloudy sky and landed before the guardians, allowing them to climb on his back. When they settled near the brown dragon’s neck, he lifted back into the dreary heavens and swirled around the other ships that were steadily advancing toward the southern coast of Vlydyn.

“Falvorn,” called out Earamathras.

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said.

“You’re a small fellow. I mean, compared to me, of course. Since it will be difficult for the demons to see you, why don’t you do a little reconnoitering up north and let us know if you see anything roaming around that might threaten us?”

“My wings won’t disappoint you,” said Falvorn, leaping off and flying north toward the volcanic region of Tor’kales.

“The immortal Spirits have forsaken this land,” said Parla’vasa.

“With the exception of Xen, they are the reason my kingdom lies in ruin,” said Aarian, uptight.

Parla’vasa rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to argue with you,” she said.

“Regardless of the truth,” intervened Xel’vakora, “the demons have taken over the entire continent. Unless we all stand united, we’re in serious trouble.”

“Have no fear, Xel’vakora,” replied Parla’vasa. “My people have agreed to this alliance. They will be docking here shortly along with Earamathras’ legion. The demons may be stronger than us, but we vastly outnumber them.”

“That should be true,” said Aarian, still gazing at his lost kingdom with sadness. “I sealed the hell rift years ago.”

“Don’t be frightened by this, Dralekar,” began Earamathras, “but immeasurably powerful fiends, such as Izabaldo’s eight demon lords, are capable of opening another portal. If even one of them managed to invade our world five years ago, then we will surely be facing a legion of their own.”

“Unbelievable,” grimaced Shakar.

“Do not despair,” replied Earamathras. “The demons lack something we have—the will to put differences aside and work together regardless of race. Demons have no allegiances. They stand alone in battle. We, on the other hand, are an army unlike any. Even the stubborn dwarves who have vowed to destroy us for no apparent reason and separated themselves from Warenyth in the northeastern mountains of Niratredam have agreed to help.”

A few of the guardians cheered when learning this.

“This is incredible news, Your Imperial Majesty,” said Aarian, smiling for the first time since returning to his fallen kingdom. “Was it difficult to convince them?”

“I must admit, they were a bit shaken upon my arrival,” said Earamathras, an amused smirk forming on his snout. “But they were willing to listen when I mentioned that name you told me about—Dolwe, was it?” When the dragon saw Aarian grow pale, he continued, “I jest! Olwe, of course, was the dwarf I spoke about. When I told them he died fighting against the one responsible for summoning the demons, the king gave me his word that he will bring an army here to aid us.”

“Excellent,” said Aarian.

“The de’mons won’t stand a chance,” said Zavoba, picking his nose. ‘They gonna regret invadin’ our world.”

The others agreed with Zavoba, except they weren’t picking their noses when nodding at him. Earamathras, meanwhile, continued to flap his tattered wings above the armada for several hours until each and every ship docked. When the legion of savages and elves disembarked, the dragon no longer glided. He flew downward until landing near his swarm. When he faced them to give a speech, he heard Falvorn yelling high in the sky. Gazing up, he spotted the gargoyle approaching.

“Dragons!” he blurted. “Dragons!”

An uproar ignited, the savages panicky for the first time. The high elves weren’t exactly relaxed about this news either. As a matter of fact, the emperor seemed to be the only one who wasn’t perturbed. Hearing them complain, he gave out an ear-shattering roar. Silence descended upon the alliance, broken only by the resonance of the dragon’s roar that repeated several times, the echo gradually lowering until no longer within earshot.

“That’s better,” said Earamathras. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. There is no dragon mightier than me. I am the emperor of Niratredam. Is there another dragon emperor out there that I don’t know about?”

“No,” said many savages in chorus.

“Precisely,” said the dragon proudly. “I alone have outlived the demons during the era of haunting. I alone have outlived the accursed Spirits that now plague this land. And I alone shall destroy them all.” He paused for a moment, as though dithering about which one to kill first, and then asked, “Falvorn, how many are there?”

“I saw four of them near those mountains,” he replied, pointing at Tor’kales.

Earamathras laughed thunderously. “That’s it? I was hoping for a challenge, such as ten or twenty.”

“What if they’re possessed?” asked Xel’vakora.

“Bah!” wavered the dragon, snorting. “We are nearly immune to being haunted. And if we are possessed, we have the strength to break free. That is why I of all beings survived during the first era. If such dragons intend to do us harm, they shall pay for it with their lives.”

Many of the alliance cheered at the emperor who then spread his wings and hastily took off, flying along the clouds. The Guardians of Xen remained on his back as he flew toward the volcanic mountains of Tor’kales, which were now emitting molten lava. Meanwhile, the alliance marched forward.

“That is a beautiful sight,” said Parla’vasa.

“I think it’s abysmal,” said Aarian, looking ahead.

“What?” she said. “No, not the volcanoes. I mean the alliance. Just look at the size of that army you have managed to gather by yourself.”

“Mind you, the dwarves aren’t even here yet,” said Xel’vakora.

“I suppose it’s impressive,” said Aarian.

“Let’s just hope it’s enough to defeat the demons,” said Falvorn, leaping off the dragon’s back and flying beside him.

The other guardians concurred with him, Earamathras continuing to fly north. In due time he approached the volcanic mountains. Sure enough, the dragons took notice of him and changed their aimless course, heading directly toward him. Gaping into their eyes, Earamathras gasped in a panicky tone for the first time in eons.

“What’s wrong?” asked Aarian.

“No,” uttered Earamathras. “It can’t be.” He took a deep breath, swerving away from the dragons as though afraid. “Never in my entire life have I ever heard of or seen patriarch dragons possessed.”

“Stay on course, Your Imperial Majesty,” commanded Aarian, unsheathing his sword. “I will help you.”

“What?” responded Shakar.

“You may be the Dralekar,” began the warlord, “but that doesn’t mean you can slay dragons.”

“Actually, he has slain one before,” said Parla’vasa.

“Trust me,” said Aarian with confidence. “Just bring me close enough to jump onto one and I’ll take it from there.”

“You are a brave humyn, Dralekar,” said Earamathras, astonished. “Very well, I shall do as you have asked.”

The emperor returned to his original course and swiftly drew closer to the black-scaled dragons whose eyes gleamed red. Upon reaching them, he released his poisonous breath on one while trying to claw another that swerved away, dodging it. In the meantime, Aarian jumped off the emperor and landed on a black dragon.

Standing up, Aarian noticed that several undead Mor’vyi’dou rode on the dragon. As soon as they spotted him, they unsheathed their double-bladed scimitars and sprinted toward Aarian to strike him down. Aarian bashed one with his shield while decapitating another. He then parried an attack from yet another fiend and riposted, shattering its ribcage. The undead elf was still animate, so Aarian kicked him off the dragon. Afterwards, he focused his attention on the last dark elf, which was the one he’d banged with his shield. He dodged its attacks and then struck its spine, splitting the fiend in half.

Once he finished dealing with the undead, the prince walked across the dragon’s back. When he approached its neck, he dug his sword into its scales. The dragon screeched. He kept attacking while the possessed beast twirled upside down, attempting to force Aarian off its body. Its rotary motion, however, was bad timing what with Aarian having dug his sword deep into its body; he held on tight to his hilt.

In the meantime, Earamathras repeatedly breathed fire on the possessed dragons. He then struck one in the face with his elongated tail and managed to tear open its chest using his front claws. Although the demonic beast had been gravely wounded, it spewed flame at the emperor. Earamathras gave out a shrilling yelp, his scaly body scorched and severely scarred with third-degree burns.

“I cannot last much longer,” said Earamathras, groaning in pain.

Worried, the guardians on his back jumped onto another dragon when they had a chance and tried to wound it as Aarian was doing with the black dragon he’d leapt onto. The beast they landed upon had undead scouts on its back. These fiends, however, were not dark elves; they were humyns. Though it pained the guardians to destroy these minions, feeling Aarian should be the one to put them out of their misery, they had no choice but to strike them down.

Even though the four possessed dragons were being injured, they were, without a doubt, harming the emperor. Earamathras inhaled deeply, once again giving out a roar that was so loud it sounded as though the sky had split. One of the four dragons was caught by the roar, its horns and teeth shattering and its neck snapping. At this point the other guardians stabbed the dragon they’d landed on until killing it and then jumped off, climbing back on Earamathras who started searching for Aarian.

Two dragons remained, one of them flying beneath the emperor. It hastily swirled upside down and slashed Earamathras’ chest while also spewing fire on his face, melting off a part of his snout. The emperor roared in horrible pain, descending to the ground fast. He attempted to use the last of his strength to land safely so as not to harm the guardians but groaned and gasped in the process. With only seconds left before crashing, he pulled up. Though Earamathras still fell hard and produced a crater with the impact, he managed to save the others who slid off his charred scales.

Aarian, in the meantime, continued to thrust his sword into the second dragon’s neck and then sprinted over to its head, jabbing his blade down and piercing its skull. The dragon croaked, falling down fast. This caused Aarian to fall with the beast. He held his sword’s hilt as tight as he could but eventually lost his grip when the dragon smashed through the ground, causing him to plunge into an immense crater formed by the slain creature.

“Aarian!” cried out Parla’vasa, rushing over to him.

“I’m still alive,” he said, slowly rising to his feet.

“Thank the Spirits,” she said, overjoyed.

Though his golden-colored armor had been severely dented, areas of its gryphon features no longer discernible, it was still, for the most part, intact. He removed his sword from the beast and climbed out of the crater. At that exact moment, the last possessed dragon swooped down and spewed fire at them.

“Get down!” shouted Aarian with urgency.

Forcing her to duck, he raised his embossed shield and deflected the breath of fire. Doing so, however, caused the relief of Scar’s face to thaw. The dragon returned to the sky near a few drifting clouds and remained there for a while. Aarian’s shield sizzling, he lowered it and then ran with Parla’vasa over to Earamathras who lay on the ground. Aarian saw his wounds, slack-jawed.

“Earamathras,” he said in dismay.

“A bold plan, Dralekar,” mumbled the emperor, short of breath. “Though, I am afraid it has failed.”

“Your Imperial Majesty,” began Varkagorsa, patting his emperor gently on the part of his face that wasn’t burnt, “please don’t speak. You must save your energy. We have slain three of the four dragons.”

“That’s not...good enough,” gasped Earamathras.

“You mustn’t speak,” growled Shakar, licking him. “Please rest. We will handle the remaining dragon.”

“It’s too late for me,” stammered the emperor, croaking.

“Nonsense,” said Aarian. “You’ve come too far to be stopped here. You are, without a doubt, the mightiest of all dragons. You will fight on and see this war to the en—”

Before he could finish, Earamathras stopped breathing. The last dragon gave out an ear-piercing roar, flying high in the heavens. This alarmed the guardians, raising their weapons; yet the demonic dragon remained amid the clouds as though taunting them to come back if they dared. The guardians then turned their attention back to the dead emperor. During this time, the legion of savages approached his body. They gazed upon Earamathras and cried, along with the Guardians of Xen.

Shakar howled and wept, continuing to lick the emperor. Warlord Varkagorsa placed his head upon the dragon’s horned cranium and then shouted in a lamenting tone. The troll, Zavoba, did the same. Aarian simply gawked at Earamathras blankly, his eyes wide and teary. He refused to cry. This was a terrible moment. This was his worst day yet since Master Dargain had died, he thought to himself. But he refused for this to be the end. He clenched his fists in anger, his eyes glowing red with absolute hatred; he was ready to put an end to the demons and their possessions once and for all.

Within seconds, Aarian transformed into his demon form. Upon doing so, he spread his wings and flew straight into the sky. The remaining dragon went inside a dark cloud. Aarian ruthlessly pursued it. Barely able to see, he zoomed through it, only to be whacked hard in the back with the dragon’s spiky tail. He hurled forward, his back bleeding with several punctures, and then turned around.

“Is that all?” groaned Aarian haughtily.

The dragon then spewed fire over his face. Even though this didn’t affect him what with him being a demon and immune to any kind of fire, the possessed beast simultaneously struck his chest with its razor-sharp claws, gashing his chest deeply. This time Aarian gasped in pain, withdrawing while flapping his bony, enflamed wings backwards. The dragon, however, swiftly maneuvered behind him and whacked his back again with its tail, sending him down.

Aarian parted from the cloud quicker than a zap of lightning. He fell lifelessly, his upper chest and back filled with monstrous wounds. Closing his eyes that no longer gleamed—his body throbbing in agonizing pain—he realized that he brought this upon himself for being so damned arrogant.

“No,” he muttered painfully. “This can’t be...”

At that point, he recalled the wisdom of Earamathras: “It is absolutely imperative you understand that just because you are the Dralekar doesn’t mean you are invincible.” He then heard the same voice of the emperor ingrained within his mind speak to him again, “Remember, you’re vulnerable against others who are immortal.”

“Forgive me,” wheezed Aarian, approaching the land.

Smashing through the ground, he created an even deeper depression than the one caused by the dead emperor. He heard the other dragon roar in triumph as he unwillingly returned to his humyn appearance. Despite how powerful he’d become, Aarian neither had the energy nor the willpower to shape-shift back into his demon form. Hearing others cry out to him, particularly Parla’vasa, he tried opening his eyes and raising an arm for aid. Yet he couldn’t move a muscle. Instead he lay crippled and defeated, passing out in the smoke-filled crater.