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"The Dragon Slayer" (Somewhere in the City-States) [Interlude: Back in Araya] ". . . . . . . . . . . ." "Oh sir, you're leaving again? At this time of night? But you just arrived!" ". . . . . . . . . . . I must." "Whatever you wish sir. Oh and in case you didn't know, your charge left hours ago... he didn't say where he went. I tell you I don't know what's gotten into children nowadays, even my son can't seem to... sir? Oh, goodbye Sir!" ". . . . . . . . . . . ." [end interlude] "Unnngh..." "Ah, you're awake. Here drink this..." The boy took the bowl in shaking hands and lifted it to his dry lips. He poured its contents down his throat and sputtered as he took in more than he could swallow. Gagging he found himself looking down at the bowl... gingerly he touched it with his finger. Wet... this is wet... slowly a concept emerged, Water... this is water. And with that Futch's memories slowly returned to him... Black, the journey, Humphrey, the town of Araya and... and... The Dragon. Futch jerked upright, knocking his unseen companion to the ground. He had been investigating a group that called its members ‘Dragon Knights’. He had gotten into their headquarters but somehow the leader, Nero or something, had known there was a spy. But before the young boy could make a break for it, he had discovered that the Knights held a Dragon prisoner. The Dragon Knight shook with anger as the image of the Dragon formed once more in its mind... he had obviously been badly hurt at some point, with his wings broken and his skin scarred. He also looked very hungry... nearly insane form that hunger and the pain. Those eyes that Futch had seen... not the gently whirring eyes of his Black but a ravaged look, the look of a creature that knew it was doomed, and that only wanted to take as many of its tormentors with it as it could. Futch could barely keep from screaming as he remembered the ‘Knights’ throwing Dragonsbaned flame at the poor thing... A muffled, oddly familiar voice brought Futch back to the present. "Er... if I-I could have some help here...?" Slightly startled, Futch looked down to see a heap of brown rags crumpled on the floor at his feet. The boy was slightly startled when a hood emerged and he saw a pair of nervous eyes peek out. Futch blinked, and after ascertaining that this brown lump was actually a person, reached out to help the other rise to his feet. "Th...thanks," the newcomer said, not looking Futch in the eye. "I just... just thought you might wa-want some water. Didn’t mean to-to disturb you." Looking at the huddled wretch Futch felt a stab of guilt. This was the man who had given him water. "It’s OK ... really! I should apologize... I was just startled to wake up in a strange place and... uhm, where are we anyway?" The other seemed to be trying to stare at Futch without looking directly at him. "Isn’t it obvious? We’re in the du-dungeon of the Dra-Dragons lair." As his companion was talking Futch looked around. Indeed they were in some sort of cell, a largish niche in the cave wall actually, sealed off from a main tunnel by narrowly spaced iron bars and a locked door. Most of the green moss that permeated the rest of the caverns had been scraped off here, except for the ceiling, possibly to prevent prisoners from slipping... but more probably to deprive them of even a moss-soft place to sleep on. <Alright Futch. Let’s see you get out of this one...> Shaking his head is dejection he once again turned his gaze to his companion. There had been something familiar about his voice... the boy looked more closely at his companion. The other man kept his head down so Futch couldn’t get a good look at his face, except for some stray locks of black hair. His build too was shrouded by the fact that he wore a ‘Knights’ brown robe that was meant for someone the size of Ronnie Bell, the giantess form Toran. What Futch could see was that the other man appeared to have a perpetual slouch or a mild hunchback. The man seemed to sense Futch’s scrutiny and seemed to shrink even more into himself. Futch inwardly grimaced at his own insensitivity. "Sorry, sorry," he began lamely. "I’m just a little out of sorts. Have we met before?" ,p>The hood of the robe raised a little, then the man faced downwards again. "You-you don’t remember? I-I was the one who ga-gave you the password. My na-name is Marash." Of course. Marash and his brother were the ones that had surprised Futch just as the boy had been ‘acquiring’ his disguise. In panic the Dragon Knight had pointed his spear towards them, raising the suspicions of Marash’s brother. Thanks to Marash’s timidity however, Futch had been able to turn the whole thing to his advantage, even managing to weasel the password from the man. And now... "Yes I remember. But, what are you doing in here with me?" Futch asked, although he already had a sinking feeling that he knew the answer. Marash seemed to deflate even more. The poor man was actually shaking. "They-they’re gonna kill me along with you. Af-after they got you Lord Ne-Nerus rounded up eve-everybody. My brother Lucius told him wha-what had hap-happened outside and how you got the pass-password. Lord Ne-Nerus had me locked up with you... and he-he killed my brother too." At this the other man succumbed to a fit of sobbing. "He kil-killed my brother for not sto-stopping me. Wha-what more will he do to-to-to..." Futch looked away as the other man completely broke down. A hot knife of guilt and regret stabbed through the boys heart. Bad enough that he had gotten himself into this mess... but now he’d even caused somebody’s death, and would soon cause the death of this simple man as well. Futch cursed his impulsiveness. If only he had waited for Humphrey-if only he hadn’t reacted so blindly to the sight of the Dragon-if only... Futch clenched his teeth and stopped the litany with an effort of will. If only a lot of things he hadn’t done. Hindsight was perfect as always. When would he stop bringing death to the innocent with his actions... Black... Lucius... I’m sorry. So sorry... While Futch had been lost in his own thoughts, it seemed as if Marash had been able to calm himself down. The man sat huddled in his rags at the corner of the cell, sniffling quietly. Futch fought down another stab of guilt and looked around for the water jug. Finding it, he poured some into a stone bowl that had been left on the cell floor and offered it to his companion. Marash accepted and drank greedily. "So-sorry," Marash began, "I a-always stutter when I’m nervous." Futch had noticed that Marash had not had much of a stutter when they had met in the forest but the boy had decided not to bring it up. Well, Marash certainly had enough to be nervous about. "I’m sorry I got you into this. You and your brother." They sat together wordlessly for a few minutes before Marash broke the silence. "Why-why did you come anyway?" Futch looked at the other man and decided that Marash at the very least deserved an explanation. So Futch told his story, how he had originally been a member of the real ‘Dragon Knights’ back in what was then the Scarlet Moon Empire. He told how he had lost Black and how he was travelling towards Harmonia to find a new Dragon. He explained the incident at the inn, and how he had heard that a group here was calling itself the ‘Dragon Knights’ and using the sigil of Futch’s old brethren, an incident which had lead Futch here, to the place the fake Knights called their Dragons Den. Marash had been listening silently the whole time. And Futch had observed in his companion an almost frightening intensity as he listened. Finally when it was all over, Marash nodded and patted Futch’s arm in sympathy. "You lost your beast? And they cast you out for that?" Marash continued on before Futch could defend the action. "That is cruelty. I hear that Lord Nerus was once a Dragon Knight as well and that he-he was cast out too because he would not serve your beast-Dragon masters. Lord Nerus was wounded in battle with one of them, and when the others took the side of the beasts, that was when he decided that your Dragon Knights had been corrupted by the evil beasts, that you had become slaves instead of masters. So he jour-journeyed all the way here to found a new order of Knights, one that would protect us from the foul beasts. And we grew and grew in number, until one day the beasts sent one of their own to attack us. Lord Nerus himself captured it and brought it here as a sign that we would never lose to the beasts. One day, we will march on the infidel Dragons Den, and burn it to the ground, with all the beasts and all their servants. Burn them all!" Now it was Futch’s turn to listen in horrified fascination. This Nerus had twisted everything that the Dragon Knights stood for! Instead of being friend to the Dragons, these Knights considered them to be evil beasts, and were sworn to be their enemies. Futch could hardly believe the level of insanity of this Nerus; did he actually believe he could raise a peasant army that would defeat the Dragon Knights? Still, he had managed to convince many. The fanatic zeal that Nerus had burned into the minds of his followers seemed to reach deep indeed... even after being sentenced to death by his ‘leader’ Marash still proclaimed the righteousness of their cause with fervor. He hadn’t even heard Marash stutter during that whole spiel. Even his body had seemed to straighten! Before Futch could begin to explain to Marash what the Dragon Knights were in fact, the other man sank back into his usual hunched, stuttering self. "I’m so-sorry," he muttered, "Old habits die hard. I-I’m just really scared of dying... don’t-don’t you have any friends who could help us? What about your friend Hum-Humphrey?" Futch shook his head. "We can hope but I don’t know how long he’ll be gone. He could be here right now or he could be gone for a week more. Besides, no matter how good a fighter he is, Humphrey is only one man... I doubt he’d be a match for a hundred men, especially when those include some Matildan Knights." "Doesn’t any-anyone else know where you are?" Futch thought for a moment. "No, nobody else." "Nobody? Are you certain? Just one man?" Futch frowned. Why was Marash being so insistent? "Nobody, I told you." Futch sighed, maybe Marash was just anxious for some form of hope. "Don’t worry," the boy said in what he tried to make an encouraging tone, "We’ll get out of here. I promise." "We? Me perhaps. But I doubt YOU’LL be leaving the Dragons Den boy... at least not as a living, breathing human being. Thank you for the conversation though... you’ve told me all I needed to know." Futch blinked. What did he just say? What had happened to Marash’s stutter? And his voice... the other mans voice itself had seemed to change from thin and wheezy to a much more powerful, intimidating tone. What was going on? Slowly Marash stood up, his back to Futch. Marash stretched, and the boy watched in amazement as the muscles in the other mans back moved and smoothened, taking up their rightful positions, and bringing Marash to his full height. The oversized robe was discarded as well, revealing a muscular build sheathed in black armor fashioned in a style well known to the Toran Dragon Knights. Marash turned and finally Futch saw the mans face. Close-cropped hair with long bangs framed an angular face, one that was cruelly handsome on the right side, but marred by three jagged scars that extended from hairline to ear on the left side. Grinning now, Marash lifted a golden circlet form the folds of his robe and placed it upon his brow. Then at last he spoke: "Ah, it feel good to be me again," Marash grinned even more widely as Futch scrambled to his feet. "What? No greeting for a countryman? No warm hello for a fellow Dragon Knight?" With a cry of outrage, Futch charged. Marash easily blocked the boys punch with his hand, then in a swift motion, he pivoted and brought the back of his hand hard against Futch’s skull. Before the boy could fall, Marash brought the same hand up and grabbed Futch by the neck, dragging him to the right before throwing the dazed boy against the far wall. Futch struggled to keep conscious as he hears the footsteps approaching. Two Matildan Knights appear and open the door so Marash can step out. One of them clothes Marash once more in the red and gold robe of the Dragon Slayer. "Are you hurt Lord Nerus?" "Don’t concern yourself good Knight. I am not as easily injured as your Lord Gordo. It will take more than a slip of a boy to harm me." Futch dragged himself to his feet as Nerus and the two Knights walked out of sight. He forced himself to reach the bars of his cell and call out. "So what are you going to do to me?" One of the Knights kicked out and hit Futch, sending the boy to the ground. In a haze of pain the boy heard Nerus mocking reply. "Do? Why we will grant you your wish boy. We all noticed how interested you seemed in our prisoner... you get to see what a pain-crazed Dragon is like... from close range. Sleep tight Dragon-boy." With that Nerus turned and walked away.
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