[Writing] Pax Draconica - Chapter 23 (30th Oct 2024)

[Tapewolf]

D:

Yeah.  I didn't send this to the proof-readers until I had the followup chapter done too, and it's going to be a struggle not to post that one early.

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 22 - Lucky

"That leaves Tarnover," Lord Thurr said, rotating the map slightly so Fardon could see it better.  "I can't exactly ask you to have one of my cities so close to your own capital, so my proposal is that Tarnover becomes the new disputed territory, once I have annexed what we currently call that."

"...And what about all the people who currently live in Tarnover?"  Fardon asked, through gritted teeth.

"Well, they'll have to leave," the red dragon grinned.  "Otherwise the Hunters will probably slay them.  Assuming you mean our kind, that is.  If you are stretching the definition of 'people' to include the Small Races... Well, my troops need somewhere to hunt, right...?"

"You..."  Fardon began furiously.  Lord Thurr held up a clawed finger in a "shh" gesture, grinning widely.  At that moment a shout disturbed them.

"Lord Thurr!" the voice rang out.

The dragon lord glanced angrily at the doorway.  "I said we were not to be disturbed!" he hissed.  "Either get out, or state your business!  But it had better be important, or it'll be DragonSplitter for you!"

"Oh, it is important," the strangely familiar voice insisted.  "More than you could possibly imagine."

Lord Thurr froze as a frost-dragon entered the throne room.  "...The fuck...?!" he swore.

Fardon's eyes bugged crazily.  "Mermul?!  What the hell...?!  I thought you died!  Is it really you...?"

"In a sense," the blue-grey dragon smiled.  He looked like Mermul, but stronger and more confident, his body clean and free from injury.  "I am Mirmjolnar.  Mirmjolnar the Slain."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"  Lord Thurr snapped, face twisted with disbelief.

"...But you can still call me Mermul," the blue dragon added, grinning cheerily.  "Well, my friends, anyway.  Mirmjolnar to you, Thurr."

"You're not him!  Mermul was a gibbering idiot!  A broken imbecile who almost wet himself in the guillotine!  So who the hell are you, and why are you here...?"

"But I am,," the frost-dragon corrected.  "And I am come to give you my thanks, Lord Thurr.  Because of you, I no longer have to fear death.  I no longer have to fear you."

"You. Are. Not. Mermul!!" the dragon lord screamed.  "That's Mermul!" he yelled, pointing at the impaled head.  "He is dead!  And you're next!"

Mermul gasped, a crossbow bolt protruding from his head and piercing his brain.  His eyes rolled and he fell to the ground with a massive crash, limbs quivering in death.  In the corner, Vinny threw up.

"Right," Thurr said, looking slightly rattled.  "That's that, then!  Pike this idiot's head next to Mirmjolnar, and shove the body out the way - we'll carve it up later with the rest.  Oh, and clean up Vinter's puke.  Now, Fardon... Where did we get to...?"

"I can't remember," Fardon lied, staring at Mermul's corpse in confusion and disbelief.  "But... It looked like Mermul!  If that wasn't him... who the hell was it...?"

"I don't care," Lord Thurr snapped.  "Just some wandering loony.  Your Mermul's wing was broken, he was all cut up and bleeding.  And he had no head last I checked," he jabbed angrily towards his trophy. 

Fardon shrugged his wings.  "You probably want to tighten up security if even a wandering loony can reach your very throne room," he said mildly, craning his neck to watch as two of the guards dragged the frost-dragon's carcass out of the room.

Lord Thurr scowled.  "Enough about the dead intruder!  Try and stay focused, knight!  This is an important matter for that self-proclaimed king of yours!"

"I can't shake the feeling that the intruder is more important," Fardon admitted.

"...Tarnover!  That was it," Lord Thurr exclaimed, looked pleased with himself.  "It's not like you're going to miss it, right...?  And if you want to build settlements on the edge of it, I'm sure I can turn a blind eye..."

There was a roar and a scream from outside.  One of the guards ran in through the door.

"The body!" he whimpered.  "It's..."

"Yeah, Sorry," Mermul said, padding into the throne room.  "I'm still using it.  Now, Lord Thurr, I don't believe we finished our conversation," he added in an accusing tone.  "Be thankful that I am a merciful dragon."

"Kill him!" Thurr screamed.  "Kill him again!"

Mermul staggered as the enforcers's tail-sword severed his neck.  The head tumbled to the ground, eyes glazing as it rolled to a stop, and his collapsed body lay twitching in a pool of bright blood.

"What the hell is going on here...?"  Lord Thurr demanded, as the head was piked next to Mermul.  "Am I having some kind of nightmare...?  Why is this happening to me?  I am the pinnacle of Alkrash's creation!  What did I do to deserve this...?!"

"About Tarnover..."  Fardon asked, stifling a grin.  Lord Thurr looked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment.  "Uh...?"

"Are you sure you're well enough to continue the negotiations, your lordship?" the knight asked, sounding concerned.

"Don't be impertinent!" the red dragon snapped, and then let out a yell of horror.  Mermul had grown a new head.

"...Must you keep doing that?" the frost-dragon coughed, a trickle of blood emerging from his mouth as he clambered to his feet.  "Don't you think it would be easier to talk this out?  By the way, I'd advise getting some sawdust.  My blood will make the floor slippery."

"This isn't possible!" the dragon lord whimpered.  "Only the... Of course!  You're not Mermul!  You're the Devourer!"

"But then... who's that?!" one of the enforcers wailed, pointing at the unconscious black shape in the corner.

"Once, I was Mirmjolnar the Slayer," Mermul said.  "You made me a monster, crushed out my empathy and compassion, left me even devoid of fear, save fear of your wrath."

"I made a dragon of you!" Thurr snapped.  "Gave you strength and glory!  Perfection!  And now..."

"Shut up,"  Mermul told him.  The dragon-lord looked stunned, and fell silent, mouth hanging open with astonishment.

"Once, I was Mirmjolnar the Slayer, devoid of empathy, compassion and fear.  In recovering, I became Mermul, and I could not yet control those emotions that had been denied me.  Now I am in balance.  I have been given a gift, and I must use it to end your evil reign."

Fardon made a strange noise.  Lord Thurr sat down like a dog and covered his eyes with a pained expression.

"'End my evil reign?'" the dragon-lord sighed.  "Seriously...?  Do have any idea how many times I've heard that?  I have a whole room lined with their heads!"

"Well, now you can add some of mine to your collection," Mermul said, gesturing at the two piked dragon heads in the middle of the room.  "But it is true, Thurr," Mermul added, fixing the dragon lord with eerily deep eyes, that spoke of a wisdom beyond mortality.  "I have been chosen."

Fardon began laughed hysterically.  "Mermul... The Chosen One!" he cackled.  "Oh my gods..."

"I am the one foretold, who will fell the evil tyrant and bring peace," Mermul added calmly.

"...Then what are you doing?"  Lord Thurr hissed, puffing himself up angrily and stretching out his wings to make himself look bigger.  "Why are you just standing there looking at me?!  If you're here to fight me, get on with it! DO something!  Attack me... And I shall teach you what fear truly means!"

Mermul shook his head sadly.  "But that would ruin the balance," he said.  "Attacking people is outside my remit.  Otherwise I could take over the world, and that would not suit Father Alkrash's plans."

"Then I will make you fight," Thurr grinned evilly.  "Narkath... kill Mermul for me!"

*  *  *

"Kill Mermul, my liege?"  Narkath asked eagerly.  "Any preferences?  Rules of engagement?"

"A duel to the death," Lord Thurr said, eyes gleaming.  "If you win, Narkath, I shall decapitate Vinter, and Sir Fardon shall be returned to Taria without his wings.  If Mermul wins, they shall both be spared."

"Fat chance of that," Narkath smirked.

Lord Thurr craned his head to face Mermul, and gestured at a weapons rack by the open space where spars and duels were held.  "If you are who you claim to be, you were my best assassin once," he said.  "Choose your weapon, 'Mermul'.  Slay my champion... or watch your friends suffer!"

Mermul sighed unhappily, and picked a shortsword with a wicked, serrated edge.  He weighed it in his hand and nodded.

"Begin!"  Lord Thurr commanded, an eager gleam in his eyes.  Fardon watched, appalled, as Narkath roared and pounced at the fluff-dragon.

Mermul flipped and the enemy dragon's claws missed, marking the tiled floor.  The frost-dragon leaped into the air, wing-assisted and landed behind his opponent.  Narkath's tail lashed out, and Mermul tried to dodge, but it struck him with a sickening crunch and he was knocked to the ground.

"Easy," Narkath gloated, as Mermul struggled to get up and slumped back to the ground.  The enforcer opened his mouth wide, and loomed over the frost-dragon's neck.  Mermul's blade suddenly lashed out, striking home with a horribly meaty sound.

Narkath's eyes widened with horror.  He gazed in disbelief at the pooling blood beneath his neck, and then the strength left him and he toppled over.  The big dragon's eyes stared with a pitiful expression of terror as his life ebbed away.

Lord Thurr padded over to the combat area, stunned not only by the sight of the dead champion, but by the insolent attitude of Mermul, who stood over his kill, fixing the overlord with an expression of casual disdain.

"You... You said you couldn't fight!"  Thurr gurgled.

"I am not allowed to attack," Mermul corrected.  "Defending myself, and protecting others...?  That is within the rules of engagement."

"...And yet, you killed a fellow dragon," Thurr said angrily.  "My loyal champion!  All his strength and magnificence, wasted!"

"Yes," Mermul said simply.  "That was regrettable, but necessary to protect my friends.  And it is what you asked for."

The blue frost dragon crouched down, and rolled Narkath's head over, the fallen dragon's dead eyes still bearing a glassy look of shock.  Mermul opened his mouth wide, and drew in a deep breath.

"What the fuck..." Lord Thurr goggled as Mermul breathed out a pastel blue force over the lifeless enforcer, not flame, frost, nor void, but something like a plasma that hurt to look at.

"Arise, Narkath," Mermul said quietly.  "It is not time."

The dragon coughed and twitched, the awful gash to his neck healed without even a scar.  His eyes focused on Mermul and he emitted a piercing wail of terror as he locked eyes with his killer.

"I suggest you choose your next lord more wisely," Mermul informed the bigger dragon as they backed away in fright, thoroughly cowed.

"You cheated!"  Lord Thurr choked.

"No.  I did exactly what you asked for," Mermul said.  "I slew your champion in a duel to the death, as you commanded.  Which really wasn't fair, since you pitted him against an immortal.  What did you expect would happen...?"

"But..."  Thurr pointed at the terrified enforcer.

"Oh, that.  Nothing was said about him staying dead," Mermul pointed out with a voice like steel.  "This is the gift I was given... where Fiskul breathes death and destruction, I breathe life and restoration."

"...And that will help you seize my throne...?"  Thurr looked disgusted.  "What are you going to do?  Heal me to death?"

"Narkath," Mermul commanded.  "As your vanquisher in combat, and in payment for your life... I demand your fealty!"

"Uhh...?"  Thurr looked utterly confused.

"My lord," the champion grovelled.  "My soul is yours for eternity.  What do you ask of me...?"

Mermul grinned wickedly, showing a row of perfect teeth.  "Narkath... Kill Lord Thurr for me!"

[Liatai]

!

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 23 - Confrontation

"K-Kill Lord Thurr...?" Narkath looked terrified.

"Kill him," Mermul confirmed.  "In whatever manner you see fit."

"So this is how it must be!"  Thurr snarled.  "Fool... for all your tricks, you forget!  I wield a bracelet of invulnerability...  and I would not pick a champion I could not defeat myself, should the need arise!  Behold my strength, and cower!"

"Hold, Narkath," Mermul said.  The larger dragon glanced back at his master, with an expression of barely-concealed relief.  "While Thurr might consider you expendable against an invincible foe, I would not have you die in vain a second time.  But if anything should 'happen' to our illustrious Lord's invulnerability trinket... then he knows what could follow."

The red dragon-lord looked unsettled, but snarled nonetheless.  "Very well, you have made your point.  You are not helpless.  Nonetheless, as one invincible dragon to another, you must admit we are at an impasse.  Come, let us reason together."

"I agree completely," Mermul looked pleased.  "As I said earlier, we really should talk this out.  But I don't think you're going to like it."

Fardon glanced at Lord Thurr's proposed map of the realm and grinned widely.

"Fardon knows," Mermul smiled, pointing at the dragon knight.  "I will offer my terms, but you'll like them about as much as Lord Varl will like losing the Disputed Territories."

"...You want me to surrender to him?!"  Lord Thurr puffed out furiously, wings outstretched.  "Face execution by that human-loving upstart and his toadies?!  You've lost your mind!"

"No," Mermul said sharply.  "You will not face the death penalty.  I will shield you from that, after you have agreed to go into exile.
"This way, you will keep your head, avoiding the violent fate which you have earned.  You may have angered the Great One enough that He has sent me to stop you, but at the end of the day, you are still a fellow dragon.  I would not have you suffer the torments of Hell without a chance to mend your ways.
"Therefore, so much as I find your actions repulsive and deserving of a public decapitation, I will still endeavour to protect you, in the hopes that you may yet find a path to salvation."

"Protect me?!"  Lord Thurr screamed.  "You think I need protection from an upstart ball of fluff like you?!  I am ten times your age!  I was your master!  Your overlord!  I made you into what you are!"

"You made me into a psychopath," Mermul said coldly.  "You had me defy the wishes of the Great One, disappointing our own creator.  And yet, I can still be merciful, if you agree to step down as ruler of this realm."

Lord Thurr roared and blasted a thick wall of flame at Mermul's face.

"Insolence!" he yelled.  "You dare barge in here and demand to be made Emperor!?  I have bitten the heads off others for much, much less!  I should tear off your wings for such an insult!"

"No.  I never said that," Mermul replied irritably.  "I do not seek to rule - for that is also against the rules I was given.  If you accept my demands and stand down, I will become a temporary steward of this realm until a suitable replacement can be found."

"Temporary," Thurr sounded amused.  "...Right.  Hahaha!  No budding tyrant has ever said that before, have they...?"

"It really doesn't interest me," Mermul said, sounding bored.  "I have much more important things to do than play at being king.  Remember, my gift is to heal in the name of Father Alkrash, and administering your realm full-time would only get in the way of that destiny."

"...You think you're so fucking clever," Lord Thurr growled dangerously.  "Well, I'll show you!  Maybe you can't die... But your friends can!"

Vinny looked between Thurr and Fardon, an expression of terror on his draconic face.  "No..." he whimpered.  "No, no, no..."

"We've been through this," Mermul snapped irritably.  "I am allowed to protect them, even at the cost of your life."

"Ah, but you can't!"  Thurr gloated.  "You can't fight an invulnerable dragon lord!  Arvir... down him."

At that moment, a dart pierced Mermul's neck and he went down, an expression of surprise on his face as he collapsed to the ground.

"You're only making this worse for yourself," he slurred.

"Oh, that's just to stop you interfering," Thurr said.  "It'll wear off shortly.  If you have similar powers to the Devourer, then I must treat you with similar caution.  But right now, I want to try an experiment.  Vinter... come here."

The brown dragon keened with terror, and had to be forced by Thurr's enforcers.

"You... you promised not to kill me if Mermul won!" he whimpered.  "You promised!"

"I promised not to decapitate you if he won," Thurr corrected, taking a large, black anti-dragon pistol, and pressing it hard between the terrified dragon's eyes.  "Goodbye, Vinter."

"Not like this," Vinny begged.  "Not like..."

The brown dragon let out one last sob and then the back of his head burst, spattering gore across the leathery wings and the scales of his back.  He collapsed with a heavy crash to the ground, blood still flowing from the death-wound in his ruined skull.

"You treacherous piece of shit," Mermul groaned, eyelids heavy as he tried to fight the drug.  "You did promise to spare him."

"Oh.  My bad,"  Thurr shrugged his wings with embarrassment.  "Still, it's all in the interest of science!" he said, enthusiastically.  "Can you revive a dragon who's lost their brains?  What if I ate them first?  How many times a day can you do this?  If someone is revived multiple times, does it damage them?  How long can they stay dead before you're unable to revive them?  These are all questions that need answering, Mermul.  And thanks to your insolence, we're going to explore them together!"

Mermul sighed, and as Narkath stood protectively over him, succumbed to the drug.

"Don't go anywhere..." Thurr said, as things faded to black.  "I'll be back shortly."

*  *  *

Mermul had fully recovered by the time Lord Thurr returned.  Vinny lay beside the frost-dragon, still spattered with his own blood, but breathing slowly, and apparently asleep.

"Fascinating!"  Lord Thurr said, sounding extremely pleased.  "I notice there's still some bits of brain left over, so I guess we'll have to wait and see whether he's a mindless vegetable.  All the same, I'm very impressed!"

"He will make a full recovery," Mermul said, in a tone of absolute certainty.

"Good!  Then we can move onto the next test later," Thurr said enthusiastically.  "I like a challenge!  Talking of which... I've brought you a present."

Standing on his hind legs for a moment, Thurr clapped his hands together twice.  The throne room doors swung open and a group of enforcers entered, bearing a heavy load between them.

"Surprise!" the dragon-lord said, as they dumped the body of a dragoness in the middle of the throne room.  She lay there, glazed eyes still wide with shock, and a trickle of dried blood caked around one nostril.  Her scales were white with purple highlights.

"NO!" Fardon yelled, horrified.

Vinny opened his eyes, took in the scene and keened like a howling wolf.  "Zeelah!" he wailed.  "Noooo..."

"Yes!"  Lord Thurr gloated.  "Your enchantress friend!  See what your defiance has cost her, Mermul... I have devoured her immortal soul!  Maybe you can replace Vinter's brain, but your fancy resurrection magic can't fix that, now can it?!"

Mermul threw back his head and keened.  Through his sorrow, Fardon felt some small pang of relief that the Mermul he knew was still in there somewhere.

"It cannot," the frost dragon admitted bitterly.  He shook the tears from his eyes, and then his expression became one of intense concentration.  "But this can," he added.  His eyes gleamed fiercely, and somehow the pulsing orb of the Xebulon had appeared in his hand.

"You wouldn't..." Lord Thurr said, looking appalled.  "You can't!  That thing has been hidden!  How did you get hold of it?!"

"It is the will of Father Alkrash," Mermul said simply, brandishing the artifact.  "For I am the Chosen One."  So saying, he locked eyes with Lord Thurr.  "Fercia wanted you to have this," he added, and flung the thing at his opponent.  Lord Thurr screamed as the orb struck him, the energies suddenly winking out.  The bracelet around his arm had become dull and tarnished.

The red dragon lord convulsed on the ground.  "No..." he gurgled.  "No...  Get out!  Get OUT...  You can't..."

The guards looked at Lord Thurr, at Mermul, Fardon and Narkath, confusion painted on their faces, as they tried to decide who was likely to win.  Arvir the sniper broke, fleeing the throne room with a number of others, while the rest waited nervously to see what happened.

"Shall I slay him, Lord Mermul?" Narkath queried.

"No, but restrain him," the frost-dragon decided.  "I would not have him killed without trial, and especially not while he is insensible... That would be base treachery."

"But when he recovers, he'll kill us all!"  Narkath protested, striding towards the twitching dragon-lord.  "This could be our only chance!  I'll make it painless, Lord..."

"Wait, Mermul, wait!" Thurr said, closing his eyes in concentration.  "Let me handle this..."  He blinked twice, looked at his hands in apparent surprise, and then seized the Xebulon, now dull and inert.  It flickered into light at his touch, and he hurled it back across the room.  The invulnerability bracelet on his arm glowed back to life.

"Got you," the dragon lord said, staring at the bracelet with a triumphant expression.

"No!"  Vinny wailed, horrified.  "He's stolen another soul!"

"Then we'll just have to throw the orb at him again," Fardon pointed out, eyes narrowing.

"Don't!  Wait!  Please listen to me!" Lord Thurr begged, looking stricken.  "Please!  You don't understand!  Mermul has won.  Lord Thurr is vanquished."

So saying, he attempted to stand, stumbled and limped back towards the throne.  At that point he spotted the enchantress' body lying on the ground and slumped visibly.  As the others watched in confusion, the dragon lord threw back his head and made a keening noise for a few moments.

"I liked that body," he sobbed, tears in his eyes.  He reached down gently, closing the eyelids of the dead dragoness and patting her mane.

"Zeelah?  Is that you...?"  Fardon asked, eyes bugging.

"Yes," the red dragon sighed, wiping his eyes sadly.  "When the Xebulon hit Thurr, it released the souls he had devoured.  But that also dislodged his own soul.  There was a fight for control of his body, and I won.  And..." he said, showing the now-glowing invulnerability bracelet, "...Lord Thurr won the booby-prize.  He will not be troubling anyone for the foreseeable future.  Not unless someone uses the Xebulon on me," they added pointedly.  "Then you risk getting him back."

"If Sir Darving was here, he would never believe you," Fardon pointed out.  "I'm not sure I believe you either."

"I want to, Zeelah," Mermul said.  "I really do.  But you have to understand, if you're not her, if you're Thurr putting on an act...  We can't make a mistake that big."

"Spare a thought for me," the red dragon grumbled.  "Your problems are mostly over.  Mine are only just beginning."

So saying, he stood up, snaked his neck under his belly and peered at his tail.  "...This new plumbing is going to take some getting used to for starters," they said.  "Plus being called 'Lord'...  Though I must admit, I've always wondered what being a guy felt like..."

Vinny and Fardon stared at each other.