For an instant the entire assemblage of people in the cavern was rendered silent by the words of their erstwhile leader. This didn’t last long however, as within moments the whole place was in an uproar, with some denying that a spy could slip past their vigilance while other were busy denouncing their ‘brethren’ as traitors to the cause. One amongst them however, did not join in the general furor. The young boy could not, for his own thoughts were more jumbled than even the chaos around him.

Impossible! How could he know? Futch thought in a mental voice that was close to panic. His thoughts raced to the man he had accosted to gain the members robes which he currently wore. Could that man have woken and reported that incident to the guards? Furtively, Futch’s eyes sought for some way to escape, but he realized then that it was too late. Anyone seen leaving at that point in time would instantly be tagged as the spy. The young Dragon Knight had no choice but to see this through.

Okay, okay, it’s still alright Futch tried to convince himself. Even if my ‘victim’ woke up he didn’t see my face… I don’t think these robes have any identifying marks either so if I stay quiet and act naturally… damn it! How could this have happened?

Eventually the ‘Knights’ agitation was calmed somewhat and Futch found his attention once again focused on the leader of this motley crew, the man they called Lord Nerus. The one they called Dragon Slayer. During the time that his members had been busy making fools of themselves, Futch had noticed no movement of any sort from the hooded man. He was not a large man, yet there was something in his bearing that intimidated the 14 year old. It was as if Nerus had just flung a piece of bloody meat to a pack of hungry wolves just to see how they’d react… the man showed no outward sign whether he was pleased or not with the results. He wore his hood low, obscuring his face… except for what appeared to be a golden circlet around his forehead. Another mockery of the Toran Dragon Knights.

Finally when order had been restored Nerus spoke again. He had a powerful voice, and one which carried the intensity of his emotion as well as his words. Many of the people in the cavern were still on edge, yet none uttered so much as a word while their leader spoke.

“Why do you trouble yourselves so my Knights? I cast no doubts upon your vigilance, for evil is as cunning as we are honest. It thinks in ways which we cannot bring ourselves to, in truth to spot this enemy, you would have had to posses the ability to think like the evil ones yourselves! Surely you cannot fault yourselves for your good mindedness?”

A murmur of assent answered Nerus words. Futch saw that many of those who had vocally protested the ‘spy’ charge as a personal insult were mollified, even congratulating themselves for their ‘good-mindedness’. But Nerus was not finished… he spoke again.

“Trust me my brethren, even I cannot spot this enemy… I merely smell his evil presence. You need not bother yourselves trying to sniff him out, evil always reveals itself in the end. Point no fingers at those you believe to be corrupted… lest you be corrupted yourselves.”

At once many of those who had been at each others necks a moment before were suddenly exchanging smiles and handshakes, as if nothing had happened. Despite his fear, Futch hardly kept himself from gaping in disbelief. He knew that most of these ‘reconciliations’ were fake but still… in one fell swoop Nerus had eliminated the bickering and the discontent. Who would rat on anyone now if they risked becoming traitors themselves?

Who IS this man?

Nerus nodded in approval, then moved from his place in front of the fire to the wooden ‘throne’ at the center of the platform.

“We will carry on with our ceremony my friends. This evil is no match for the will of the Knights. The minions of the foul beasts will cow us not. Do we not have one of their number chained amongst us? We shall show our enemy our disdain for their masters…” The hooded man looked at one of his guards. “Begin the Oath.”

With that signal the guard tossed a bag of powder onto the fire… the flames fanned higher and took on a bluish tinge. Once more the unseen gong sounded its call and the Knights began to move towards the left side of the cavern. They were forming two parallel lines up a natural ramp that lead onto the rock platform. The lines seemed to be pointed at the barred opening towards the back of the cavern, which strangely seemed to have ceased emitting the strange rumblings which had so unnerved the boy earlier.

Futch looked around desperately for a way out but he found himself being pushed along by the sheer mass of people around him. He tried to subtly wedge his way out but most of the other people were larger than his 14 year old frame. He found himself within one of the lines, which was moving forward at a steady pace. As soon as he could he craned his head to look back at the entrance to the cavern, and to his surprise he found it unguarded. Summoning his courage he was about to make a break for it when… *RRRAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!*

Futch jerked back as the sound crashed against his eardrums. Dazed and anxious, he looked around to see that the other ‘Knights’ were unfazed by the inhuman roar that still echoed around the cavern. Indeed, many seemed to raise a cheer at the sound, and Futch was pulled along as the pace of the lines quickened. The nearer he got to the barred opening, the more Futch could see of the ‘oath ceremony.’ He saw the ‘Knights’ each take a burning piece of wood from the bonfire, then by pairs they would approach the opening and after reciting a few phrases, they would throw the fires as hard as they could into the opening. Sometimes, nothing would happen… other times…. *RRRRRAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!*

Wha...? Futch thought to himself. Maybe it was just the fatigue and fear getting to him but… that horrible cry sounded familiar… Before Futch could piece his thoughts together another sensation filtered through his senses. This smell, he realized It’s the smell of Dragonsbane! The powder… in the fire… but why would they need…?!?

Then it all clicks into place. *RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!*

Another scream but Futch was beyond caring. Using strength that came only from horror, he had muscled free of the line and was racing towards the opening.

The cage.

No…

Two more torches were lit, blue Dragonsbaned flame flickering in a non-existent wind. Voices raised in unison…

“With this sacred flame we, the Dragon Knights curse you and all your kind…”

… No…

A boy races up the ramp, ignoring the outstretched arms, ignoring the outcries, eyes focused on two points of blue flame…

“… and pledge never to rest until we rid the world of your evil presence, and that of all your servants…”

…dear Gods…

He is near enough to the torches to be blinded by the flames. But he is too late. The ‘Knight’ raise the flames, then cast them into the opening, shouting their last lines…

…NO!

“… and return you to the hell from whence you came!”

The blue flames flicker and die as they hit something solid. Something that moves. Something that cries out… a cry of pain similar to that Futch had heard over and over in his head during the last three years…

*RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!*

“NOOO!!!”

There, grasping the bars finally Futch sees him, hunched over and shaking. One of his horns had chipped off, and his scales are grey with fatigue and hunger. His wings have been mutilated, the bones broken, the skin shredded. His eyes were dull with rage and pain. But even twisted and beaten as he was there was no doubt about what he was.

A Dragon.

Futch didn’t know what he was doing, but suddenly he was among them… upon them, like a wild animal. Kicking, screaming, biting with tears streaming down his cheeks. Then he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head and blackness swam in from the sides of his vision. For a while he found himself looking up at a strange face, one hooded in a robe of fire…

“See my brothers… evil never wins.”

And then oblivion