[Writing] Pax Draconica - Chapter 25 (13th Nov 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.

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 24 - Bad News

"So, what are you going to do?"  Fardon demanded, staring at Lord Thurr with his head tilted in suspicion.  "Let us go?  Kill us while we're distracted with your Zeelah act?"

"You're free to leave," Thurr sighed.  "I will see to that personally.  Though I do have two requests to make of you."

"...I see.  What are your terms?"  Fardon asked cautiously.

"First, I want to open a diplomatic channel with Taria," the dragon-lord said.  "Also, since it seems I'm going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, I would like the belongings brought here from my lair in Eastgate.  I will reimburse the cost myself."

"Those are definitely points in your favour," Fardon admitted.

"Thank you.  I'll try not to let you down, Sir Fardon, but please remember, Thurr has been steering this ship for nearly 22 centuries.  Changing course will have to be done very carefully to avoid a coup or some other kind of power vacuum.  But if I can mandate vegetables as part of the state-promoted diet, that should at least calm the majority down and make them more accepting of future, more progressive reforms."

"What about the Pax Draconica?"  Vinny asked.

"If I could, I would sign it tonight," the lord sighed.  "But if doing so triggers a civil war, what have we gained?"

"I understand," Mermul said.  "And I believe you now, Zeelah.  Thurr would never plan for such an event."

"But remember, there are other dragon supremacists out there, too..."  the dragon-lord said.  "Even if peace is declared with Taria, there are still others who would threaten the Pax Draconica..."

"Aaah!"  Fiskul screamed.  The Devourer had awoken to the sight of Mermul's piked head - the other having fallen to the floor.  They sprang up and turned to face Lord Thurr, eyes blazing with fury.

"I'll destroy you!" the small dragon raged.  "You murdered my f-friend!  My lover!  I'll devour you, and all of your..."

"STOP!"  Mermul roared.

"M-Mermul...?!" the Devourer turned to see the blue-grey fluff dragon standing there, and his eyes bugged.  "But... but..."

"Calm down, Fisk," the fluff-dragon said in a soothing voice, "Calm down, dear friend.  It's okay, it's okay.  I'm fine, but please calm down.  Attacking him would ruin everything."

"But... NO!" the Devourer wailed.  "You've gone over to Lord Thurr?!"

"Don't be silly," Mermul said firmly.  "But things have changed while you were out of it... a compromise has been reached.  Lord Thurr is sending us back to Taria to open diplomatic relations with him.  I will explain the details on the way home, as the situation is still a little delicate."

Fiskul just stared, eyes narrowing suspiciously.  "Firstly, that sounds too good to be true.  Secondly, that's definitely Mermul's head on the pike,"  he added stubbornly.  "And you're not acting like him... even if you do sound like him.  Who are you?!"

"I am Mirmjolnar the Slain," the frost-dragon said, sadly, picking up his other piked head, and propping it next to the one that Fiskul had seen.  "But am I also still Mermul... and I do still love you, Fisk...."

Fiskul's jaw dropped open.  "You mean...?  You... got sent back...?"

"Once you thanked Alkrash for sending you a friend," Mermul said.  "And I know how much you feared I would leave you forever, going where you can't follow, as so many of your friends have done before.
"But now the Great One has sent you, not just a friend, but a partner, who can stay by your side for as long as you need."

Fardon stared, astonished, as the Devourer of All Things lay on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

*  *  *

"So, let me get this straight," Fiskul sniffed, as they padded out of the castle.  "Alkrash gave you powers like mine, but to heal instead of destroy?  And Lord Thurr now has Zeelah's soul?"

"Yes," Mermul said.  "The real Lord Thurr is trapped in the invulnerability bracelet, where he can contemplate his folly for the foreseeable future.  And the other souls he devoured have been freed, may Alkrash guide them home.  Vinny was shot in the face, but I breathed life back into him.  I killed Narkath in a duel, brought him back, and now he insists on serving me.  So I've asked him to keep an eye on Thurr for me."

"It's a lot to take in," Fiskul said, eyeing Mermul with an expression of awe.  "And you renew when you die..?"

"You've seen my heads," Mermul sighed.  "It took a few deaths before Lord Thurr got the message.  If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not demonstrate that particular ability."

"Later maybe," Fiskul joked.  "If it's true, we've got plenty of time ahead of us."

"Mermul, I do have to ask," Fardon interrupted worriedly, "We've seen Lord Thurr undergo a mind transplant.  But what about you?  You're so... different!  Are you still the same Mermul I knew...?  Did dying so many times affect your mind...?  You're not sharing souls with someone else, or damaged or anything?"

"No I'm not," Mermul said.  Then looked a little flustered.  "Er... Not sharing souls, I mean!  I really am Mermul, Fardon.  Some of it was a brave front to keep Lord Thurr off-balance, but I really do have more control over my emotions, and I do have a lot less to fear now."

"I believe you," Fardon smiled.  "Yes, that flustered look is definitely the Mermul I know.  But... Well, you have changed."

"It's like growing up," Mermul said.  "And I'm sorry if my childishness was part of the charm.  Though that is still in there too," he grinned nervously.  "But you're right, that... well, things have changed.
"Before, I looked up to you as my protector, and you said that you would do that until I found my wings.  Now I have, and I no longer need your protection.  In fact, you are more likely to need mine, and I will gladly provide it," the fluff-dragon finished, placing a red-clawed hand on Fardon's shoulder.

"Thanks," Fardon said, looking embarrassed.  "You... You could always go back to Arcaia, you know..." he added, "Now Lord Thurr is unlikely to invade it, now that you no longer have to fear his wrath..."

"It's tempting," Mermul said, sighing wistfully, and looking a lot like his old self.  "But... I think I have outgrown it.  I have a luxury villa in Taria now, friends there, and a calling.  I think I can do more good in Taria, than trying to relive my youth in Arcaia, so to speak.  "Though I will definitely visit there to give my thanks."
"As I told Lord Varl, I wanted to be a healer, a medic... and now I am.  I want to put that power to good use - the gods have given it to me for a reason, after all...  Oh!"

"What's the matter?"  Fardon asked, looking at the fluff-dragon curiously.

"Fiskul, Lord Thurr killed two of your friends, didn't he?"  Mermul said.  "Vulthur and that Roberts guy...?  If we can get to their bodies quickly, I... I can try and use my power on them."

"Oh!" the black dragon looked astonished.  "I... I would like to try that."

"I can't make any promises," Mermul said.  "I don't know how long I have before resurrection is impossible.  But if you want me to try..."

"We'll go there as soon as we can," Fardon promised.

"I just thought of something else," Mermul added nervously.  "About my powers.  Bishop Ferdinand might try to have me killed as a force of darkness or something, if I raise the dead!  Is it safe for people to know about this...?  Is Fiskul going to get a demonstration of my self-healing when I'm executed for necromancy or something...?"

"That would suck," Fiskul said.  "But I can make it suck for him too, if he tries a stunt like that.  Go ahead and use your powers, Mermul.  Mine aren't really geared to make the world a better place, but yours are.  At least for some."

"Please don't hurt him," Mermul said anxiously.  "I'd have to put him back together and that won't help allay his fears."

*  *  *

Narkath watched from his usual spot in the throne room as Lord Thurr summoned Marshall into his presence.  Her presence?  Their presence?  The enforcer was no longer sure.  Nonetheless, The Lord Mermul had instructed him to keep an eye on things in his absence, and he was sworn to obey.

The Hunter arrived, causing a shiver to run down Narkath's spine, like most dragons present.  This was the man who would send them to a painful demise if Lord Thurr saw fit to command it, and he enjoyed it far too much.

"Ah, Marshall..." the red dragon said, eyeing the Hunter dispassionately.  "I am afraid I have some bad news for you.  Your services are no longer required."

The human looked stunned.  "You what?!"

"Oh don't give me that," Thurr said, eyeing the human with an expression of mild contempt.  "You know that in every dictatorship there will be purges as people fall out of favour... Well, now it's your turn.  And I am being generous... for while purges are usually messy, bloody affairs - in recognition of your long service, you'll get to keep your head!"

"...But why?!"

"I am changing strategy," Thurr said simply.  "New alliances have become necessary, and your presence in this realm will hinder those policies, I'm afraid.  You will have to leave this land, I'm sorry to say... But I shall give you time to settle your affairs."

"You... You treacherous worm!"  Marshall shouted.  "After all I've done for you?!  I should never have trusted a fucking dragon!"

Lord Thurr scowled.  "Do not test my patience, Hunter.  I want you out of my realm in two tendays.  Or else."

"You've gone mad," the human snapped.

"One tenday," Thurr hissed dangerously.  "Now get out, before I bite your head off."

Marshall stormed out of the throne room.  The guards looked at each other, and cast nervous glances at Thurr.

"Lord," Narkath asked.  "I have a question..."

The other guards backed away, trying to distance themselves from the champion in case Thurr killed them too for this impertinence.

"...Right.  Who will replace Marshall as lord high executioner?"  Thurr prompted, without looking.  "Something like that, yes...?"

"Yes, Lord.  If I may be so bold..."

"You may," Lord Thurr shrugged his wings.  "I am expecting a sharp drop in the number of executions going forward, and should be able to manage them by myself.  After all, if we dragons are such superior creatures, our lives should be protected, not wasted, right...?  I should have..."

At that moment, Marshall ran into the room, brandishing a dragon-spear.

"Die, worm!" he shrieked, lunging at Lord Thurr's face as he tried to stab the spear into the dragon-lord's eye, to force it through to the brain.

Lord Thurr jerked his head instinctively and the spear missed its mark, skittering over the scales of his long snout.  Narkath's wing lashed out and knocked the Hunter aside, the spear's long blade scraping down across Thurr's face before the the haft finally snapped under the human's weight as he fell.

"Do not kill him!"  Thurr roared, as Narkath and the other guards prepared to disassemble the Hunter.

"But he tried to assassinate you!"  Narkath protested.  "He must die for this treason!"

"You forget, as he did, that I wear a protection bracelet," Lord Thurr said, raising one hand.  "But as for dying..." the dragon-lord laughed evilly, causing the guards to cringe visibly.  "Believe me... he will."

*  *  *

A massive crowd of dragons had gathered in the square outside Lord Thurr's palace, as Marshall was led up the scaffold by a pair of dwarf dragons, each about the size of a car.  A small guillotine awaited him, and the words "Human Splitter" had been scrawled across the top in white paint.

He surveyed the crowd for a moment before the guards pushed him, and he was soon lying face-down, staring into a waiting basket.

I guess I did this to enough of them, Marshall thought.  Fair's fair...

Mere moments later, he was lying in the head-basket, vision tunnelling to black and the judgement of his gods.  The last thing he heard on the mortal plane was the triumphant roar of a hundred excited dragons.

Standing beside Lord Thurr, Narkath looked at the dragon-lord in wonder.  Lord Mermul will never believe this, he thought.  Perhaps there can be peace with Taria after all...

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 25 - Loose Ends

Mermul sat in the Kebab and Calculator, wearing one of the shiny latex dragon-coats that Fercia had left in the private rooms of the villa.  He had to admit that Fiskul was right - it did look good on him, though it was a hassle to put on and the squeaky noises it tended to make when he moved were rather annoying.  Not long ago, Mermul would have shrivelled with embarrassment at wearing something like this even in private, let alone in public, but now, having faced his worst fears and come out on top, it all seemed rather unimportant.
I'm a dragon, he thought contentedly, glancing down at the paw-gloves and polished red claws poking out of them.  We're all a bit vain, and if I want to look pretty, that's my business.

As if sensing his thoughts, Fiskul patted him reassuringly.  "It looks great," he said.  "And if anyone has a problem with it... What kind of ungrateful wretch would dare tell the Chosen One that they look like a whore...?"

"Maybe I do," Mermul said.  "But it's fun."

A couple of tables away, the green dragoness from before was chatting to her orange friend.

"I hear Lord Thurr has made peace overtures to Lord Varl!"  she said.  "Peace!  With him?!  What is the world coming to?!"

"He's mellowed considerably over the last few tendays," the orange dragon pointed out.  "He dismissed his executioner, and when they didn't like that, he publicly executed them!  I don't know why he's doing this... he must have had a change of heart, though it's very late in coming."

"More like a change of mind," Mermul muttered to himself.

"Are they okay?"  Fiskul asked quietly, suddenly looking concerned.  "Thurr's still more... aggressive than Zeelah was."

"I've read Narkath's reports," Mermul said.  "He was worried at first, but... Well, Thurr is making good with their promises of reform.  Zeelah said it had to be taken slow to avoid her minions turning against her, but I didn't think she'd be this good an actress.  Then I realised... it's not all an act."

"You mean she's gone bad?!"  Fiskul asked, appalled.  "The power went to her head...?  Have we just created another Lord Thurr...?"

"I hope not," Mermul said.  "But I'm not sure it's the power gone to her head, so much as the testosterone."

"Ohhh," Fiskul said.

"Yes.  The thing is... she's got a male body now.  While Thurr's brain chemistry may be used to dealing with such hormones, her mind won't be so used to having to fight its influence."

"Right," Fiskul said, looking relieved.  "That does make sense!"

Fardon sauntered into the bar, looking really happy.  The powerful, muscular dragon knight was practically skipping, and his claws were painted red.

"What's happened to you?" Fiskul asked.  "Are you... sober?"

"Lord Varl summoned me to the palace," the knight replied happily.  "With peace in sight between Taria and the Realm of Thurr, we only have to worry about the Hunters for now.  Taria has absorbed half the Disputed Territories now Thurr has given up his claim.
"And that is all thanks to us!  He gave me a 'special reward'."

"What did he do?" Fiskul asked.

"Me," Fardon sighed happily.  "He was wearing the same kind of outfit as you," he glanced at Mermul, who looked embarrassed.

"...Oh.  Is he supposed to sleep with his minions?" the Devourer asked.  "Isn't that scandalous or something?"

"We are dragons," Fardon said haughtily.  "Would you tell someone who can breathe fire who they ought to be humping...?"
"But... You have a point," he conceded.  "It's not something he tries to make a habit of.  Officially becoming his consort?  That would have political ramifications and make things rather awkward.  Sir Darving would be jealous, for one thing.  But having the occasional fling with some of his trusted knights?  That's one of the perks of royalty."

"..Does that mean he wants to 'reward' us too?"  Fiskul looked worried.

"He figured you probably wouldn't be that interested," Fardon said.  "He's considering offering you each a royal boon.  Which could certainly include a romp with His Majesty if that's how you want to spend it," he added.

"How is Sir Darving taking this?"  Mermul asked worriedly.  "The peace deal, I mean, not the King's sex life.  You said that he'd lost family to Thurr..."

"Well," Fardon said quietly, sobering up.  "As you know, we need to keep fairly quiet about the business with Thurr's soul.  If that reaches the wrong ears in their own realm... It could bring them down and cause a civil war.
"But Sir Darving has been told, and while he had hoped to watch Lord Thurr lose his head, or better still, remove it himself - Well, knowing that Thurr's already suffered an even worse fate... that's helped him.
"To be blunt, Sir Darving is still not happy about it... and he's likely to be conspicuously absent when a state visit occurs.  But... if it had been the real deal, he'd rather have quit his post than see Lord Thurr welcomed with open arms."

"Poor bastard," Mermul sighed.  "Still, I'm glad it's brought him some degree of closure."

"He'd also like to thank you personally," Fardon said.  "When it's convenient.  And also to apologise for doubting your loyalty."

Mermul looked embarrassed again.  "I can't really blame him.  In his position, I'd probably have done the same..."

"What about Acer?" Fiskul asked suddenly.

"Oh!" Fardon said.  "You were worried about his protection bracer, after the Xebulon was used on Thurr?"

"Yes.  Is he still safe?"

"Indeed.  It seems that the artifact has a ranged effect, so enchanted items outside of its influence will remain enchanted.  If we threw Thurr's Xebulon at Acer, that would presumably break his protection trinket, but I really don't want to find out.
"In any case, his region of the Disputed Territories belongs to us now, and we're building defences at the border to keep Hunters out.  He's reluctantly applied for Tarian citizenship, so he'll be a lot more secure anyway..."

"Holy gods, it's them!" the green dragoness suddenly exclaimed, pointing an elegantly-manicured claw at Mermul.

"Oh no, not again," Mermul protested.  "Listen!  I'm really not an escaped murderer..."

"You're one of the heroes who fought Lord Thurr!" the dragoness continued eagerly.  "Is that why he's changed?  Because you kicked his tail?"

"Pretty much," Mermul said, looking a little embarrassed.  "I did what I had to do."

"What about the Enchantress, Zeelah?" the orange dragon asked, looking worried.  "She hasn't been seen since!"

"We left her there as his new advisor," Mermul said.  "And to keep an eye on him."  It was almost true.

"...Can I have your autograph?" the dragoness asked eagerly.

*  *  *

"I meant to ask, how is Sarkir doing?"  Mermul asked as they headed back to his villa.

"Much better," Fardon said.  "Now he's been given a more balanced diet, he's become a lot less vicious and they let him out on probation.  He owes a big debt to society for killing those migrants, but we can't be too harsh on someone who was out of their gourd on hormones.  He's still a bit insistent that he's my servant, but hopefully we can get past that in time.  How is Vulthur?"

"He's doing well too, thank you, though there are still a few places that consider him legally dead.  Roberts had less of a problem because his death was never reported..."

"Hail, Lord Mermul!" Vinny called out as they entered the grounds.

"Lord Varl won't like that," Fardon cautioned.

"I know," Mermul put in unhappily.  "Some people think I've conquered the Realm of Thurr, by defeating Lord Thurr, and that I should have his title by right of conquest.  Or be his overlord or something.  But that will make things much harder for Zeelah.  I'd rather not be dressed in borrowed robes, if it's all the same to you, Vinny..."

"You didn't know?" the brown dragon asked, taken aback.  "Lord Varl and his advisors have voted to grant you a title.  You have prevented a destructive war with our largest and most dangerous neighbour, and did so voluntarily, knowing that it would mean certain death.  And you did die to save the realm, Mermul.  An act of self-sacrifice like that cannot go unrewarded."

"I told Thurr I didn't want to be a ruler," Mermul sighed.  "I meant it!  For better or worse, the gods recruited me and I owe Them big.  I should be using my powers to help the needy, not empire-building!  Besides, I'm worried it may corrupt me."

"The title is yours, Lord Mermul," Vinny said.  "How you use it is up to you.  You may consider it honorary if you wish to distance yourself from politics."

"I'll have to think about it," Mermul said uncomfortably.

"I am to be your protector," Vinny said.  "Not that you need one, but it's traditional, you know...?"

"I think this is something we need to discuss in the house," Mermul decided.

*  *  *

"Now that we are somewhere private," Mermul began, "I do have a question to ask you, Vinny.  Lord Thurr definitely considered you expendable, but he still knew your full name was 'Vinter'.  But you said that's a name you tried to leave behind, that only Fercia knew."

The dragon guard looked around nervously.

"We won't tell Sir Darving," Fardon added.  "And it would be tempting to think that Fercia told him in her reports... But I think I can guess the real reason."

"He's a spy?!"  Fiskul asked, appalled.  "One of Thurr's agents?  ...And he was with Zeelah when she was captured - did he help?!"

"No.  That doesn't wash," Fardon said.  "Vinny was shit-scared of Thurr, and with good reason.  Thurr literally murdered him just to annoy Mermul..."

"I'm like Mermul was," Vinny said miserably.  "One of Thurr's mooks who went AWOL.  I killed people for him.  But then I started to question why.  And I knew that... That when people saw me hesitate, I'd be in DragonSplitter faster than you could say 'uh'.  Just another head on the wall, even my name forgotten.  So I took off."

"I assume Lord Varl knows?"  Mermul asked softly.

"Yes.  But he didn't want to tell the others."

"It's okay, Vinny,"  Fardon said.  "We all have our secrets.  And with the Realm of Thurr so close... a lot more of us have ancestry there than Sir Darving would like to think."

We're dragons, he added mentally.  None of us are sweet innocents.

As Vinny went back to guarding the villa, and Mermul settled down on a massive pile of beanbags for a well-earned break, the dragon knight shuddered inwardly at what Sir Darving might do if he knew that he, Fardon, had also once followed Lord Thurr.


The End