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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Broadswords - 40. The Emergence

Broadswords


Chapter Forty
The Emergence


"It's begun," Elsior said. He could feel it within his core. The infant dragons were ready to emerge from the depths of the cave near Jhirdyr. After everything that had gone wrong, the major part of his plan was finally coming to fruition. Harmon and his father, and the rest of the kingdom, would get what was coming to them.

He stood before the fire in Rea's sitting room, imagining that the logs in the hearth were the kingdom itself. The way the flames danced, popped and crackled as they bit at the knots in the wood. It was as if the fireplace was a vision of what would soon be happening. He chuckled to himself as he considered that maybe he had some Pyromancy in his veins, too.

"Then now would be the time to send Deke to fetch Sal and Kep," Rea said calmly as she poured herself a drink. He watched her, noting how she performed the task with as much casualness as she put into everything. But he knew deep down that she was still concerned that he wasn't going to adhere to what they had discussed.

And he wasn't. He didn't feel that she had worked as diligently on Birten as she should have, and she was also partly to blame for his escape. And her children… they meant absolutely nothing to him. And if they were citizens of Jhirdyr, they too were to be destroyed. He wanted nothing of that kingdom left. Regardless of who they were.

"There's no time for that," he responded.

Without warning, Rea threw her glass across the room where it hit him squarely in the chest. It tumbled down his front before shattering on the brick floor. A trail of wine stained his tunic, a few droplets shirking off the fabric and splashing between his feet. He looked down at it, but didn't allow himself to get angry. That was likely the reaction she wanted. He stayed silent. "Bastard!" she exclaimed.

"I thank you for the work you've done, but it wasn't a job done well enough for me to continue this partnership. Had you succeeded in what we'd agreed upon, it would be another story." He didn't wait for a response. One wasn't needed, nor was it something he cared to hear. He stepped out of the room and down the hallway where Deke was waiting for him.

Though Deke was probably just as equally to blame for Birten's disappearance, he still needed him. Rea had nothing more to offer, whereas Deke was the only way he'd be able to get to where he needed. He could just steal the Tetradite pendant of course, but Deke was wily. He had a lot of other tricks up his sleeve, and Elsior knew there was a slew of things amongst his pockets that wouldn't allow him to get very far if he tried. So he would just keep him around. For now.

"That sounded pleasant," Deke said as Elsior neared him. From down the hall, it sounded as if Rea might have thrown a few more glasses. Elsior shrugged. Deke looked at him expectantly. "To Jhirdyr, then?" Deke could be perceptive when he wanted to be, and it seemed like he was aware that the time to get to the kingdom was rapidly approaching.

However, he had one more stop before Jhirdyr. "No. To Dorre."


He stood at the doorway of his cabin, surveying the measly accommodations that had served as his home for the past six years. The thin walls. The sorry excuse for a bed. He wouldn't miss it. Not one bit.

He'd gathered a few of the vials from the rack, some of the rarer powders and liquids. Aside from that, he didn't need the rest. He could restock once he'd destroyed the kingdom. Nothing else in the room was worth taking. Nor did he want anything that would remind him of his miserable life there.

Satisfied, and glad it was the last time he'd look at the place, he stepped outside.

Waiting for him was his beautiful creation, the Elsior's Dragon. He couldn't help but smile when he looked at her. Though she hadn't been able to taste the victory of cooking Daegon alive, he was sure she'd get pleasure out of torching the cabin. He knew he would.

Several paces away, Deke stood uncomfortably. Elsior found amusement in the peddler's tentativeness around the creature. It made him feel more powerful, in a way.

He looked back at his dragon, placing a hand gently on her thick hide. "Burn it to the ground," he said, an immense satisfaction coursing through his body as the words left his lips. And the beast obeyed. She let forth a low growl; with it, a large ball of fire shot out before her. The dry wood of the structure was aflame immediately, and Elsior took a few steps back to avoid the heat that radiated from it.

It was a glorious sight. The flames rose well above the building, hungry for the early morning air. Through the open door, he could just make out the pops of the vials he had left behind. Some of them exploded in clouds of multicolor, the reaction to the heat causing gorgeous fireworks of chemicals.

He took it in for as long as he could. It was the ending of something he was glad to be moving on from. The years of exile, the cold nights, the hungry winters, the overall feeling of destitution. They were gone.

"Now, the village," he said. And with that, she began flapping her mighty wings until she was airborne. He pointed in the direction of Dorre, less out of necessity and more out of theatricality. Deke was watching, after all, and he wanted to show the man how much power he actually held. The dragon soared across the swamplands until she was above the smattering of houses and other establishments. They watched as she exchanged her typical ball of fire for a more standard stream, allowing her to bring flame to multiple structures at once.

He made a game out of it, trying to pinpoint each building as it erupted in oranges and reds. That one was the general store. There, that was the clothier. The inn. The home of the grumpy old couple. The seamstress's house.

Due to the early hour, he knew all of them would be either still in bed or puttering around their homes doing their morning routines. They'd all perish. And they all deserved it. Not one of them had ever attempted to make him feel at home in that forsaken village.

He could almost feel the sense of satisfaction the dragon was experiencing as she swept through the air, lighting up the remaining buildings. She would enjoy rifling through the remains, treating herself to the cooked corpses. It wasn't as much meat as she deserved, but there were enough villagers to sate her appetite. He would leave her to it. She'd be just fine on her own.

Turning to Deke, he smiled broadly and confirmed their next move. "Now to Jhirdyr."


When Deke had asked if they should go straight to the cave, Elsior told him he had something else in mind. He wanted to take a stroll through the kingdom one last time. For old time's sake. Get one last look at the place from which he'd been shunned. He wanted to see all the unsuspecting faces; all of the people doing their day-to-day activities, unaware of what would soon become them.

They started out on the southernmost part of the city, where Elsior had been born. Even though he was young when his parents died, he remembered where his childhood home had been. They stopped briefly before it, and Elsior took note of how much further despair had fallen upon it since the last time he'd seen it. It appeared to be occupied by a new family, but they were clearly as poor as his parents had been.

Their walk became a tour of sorts as Elsior pointed out certain landmarks from his childhood. The orphanage which he'd been sent after the passing of his parents, the store in which he tried to shoplift from on several occasions, the meadery where he'd briefly been employed before going to work in the castle. He could tell that Deke was bored by the show and tell, but he didn't care. Unlike Dorre, he did have a few fond memories from this place. He wanted one last trip down memory lane before it was all torched.

Eventually, they made it to the castle. He stared up at the regal building, remembering how excited he had been when he was taken on to the kitchen staff. The castle was always looking for poor, young citizens to bring into its servitude. Jhirdyr claimed to care about the different castes and wanted to ensure that the underprivileged youth had a fighting chance to make something of themselves. He knew that was a crock. It clearly hadn't done him any good.

He found the balcony window which he recalled to be Harmon's bedroom. He'd never been in it of course, but whenever he'd be sent out to market, he'd glance up to see if the prince was at the window. Sometimes he would be, and the two would share a secret wave.

That was a different time, though. That was before he hated the king, before he held an ill-will toward Harmon by association. In any event, currently, the window was empty. Fitting.

He'd lost himself in his thoughts, not shaken from them until a dove whizzed past him and into an open window within the castle. He watched as it vanished inside, and realized he was just wasting time at that point. They'd already spent a few hours within the kingdom's walls, and it was nearing noontime. He was sure the infants were getting restless, and it wouldn't be too much longer until they'd all fully emerged.

"Let's go," he said, and Deke knew what he meant. One moment they were looking at the castle, and the next they were in the woods near the cave. And with perfect timing.

The first of the dragons was just coming out from the mouth of the cave. It stepped into the sunlight hesitantly, its eyes not yet used to the brightness. As it fully emerged, he took in the sight of it. It was beautiful. It was large, about the size of a full-grown Carpenter Dragon. Its scales were a yellowish-green, unlike the deep olive color of its mother's hide. Aside from that, it looked just like the original Elsior's Dragon. Now there were to be thirteen of the wondrous creatures bestowed upon the world.

"You've got some fucking gall," a voice said behind him.

He grudgingly turned away from the infant, not wanting to stop taking in all of its glory. As he turned, he found Daegon standing before him. "Ah, naturally it's you. I must say, you look much healthier than the last time I saw you." He was displeased with the slayer's presence, but he couldn't say he was surprised to find him there. He'd figured he'd come back to Jhirdyr after his escape.

"I've never killed a man, but I think you'll be a great exception," Daegon said. He raised his sword, the sharpness of the blade made evident by the glint of the sun off its edges. But Elsior didn't falter. He knew that the dragon would sense that its creator was in danger and would step in.

Sure enough, the infant barked out a flame that narrowly missed Daegon and hit a tree just beyond him. Perhaps Daegon had somehow not seen the dragon emerge, or maybe the sudden dragon's breath just caught him by surprise, but Elsior noted a clear change in his demeanor. Daegon's jaw set firmly and his knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the hilt of the broadsword.

"Don't you try anything either, missy," Deke said from somewhere to his left. Elsior looked around to see who Deke was speaking to. Indeed, a woman that he hadn't noticed until now stood a few paces away from Daegon, also brandishing a sword. She bore the same stony expression as her counterpart.

"They're not going to do anything, Deke. This little fella would roast them alive before they'd be able to get close enough to us. And if he couldn't, the rest of them would." As if on cue, a cry rang out from within the cave. Elsior smiled. Music to his ears. He could sense that none of the others had come out of the chasm yet, but they were close.

All he had to do now was sit back and watch the show. First, this dragon would perform the execution of Daegon that had been stolen from its mother; then, once the others emerged, the Jhirdyrian genocide would finally be underway.

Copyright © 2018 Disjecta Membra; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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