The Dragon's Cry

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You dip your head down, sinuous neck flowing, until your face is level with Beyno's.

"I'll bite your head off first," you reply grimly, teeth bared in a wicked grimace.

Beyno stiffens and finally rasps, "How droll." His oily smile glistening in the first light of dawn. "I would be SO afraid. But, you see, I have chompers of my own..."

The bound King tries to warn you, but his gag holds tight.

Beyno claps and the towering giants behind him melt -- no, morph! -- into huge, slavering canines. Eyes devilish red and rabid.

"Were-hounds!" your companion exclaims. "Beyno! You have gone too far!"

"Oh, have I, Silvera?" Beyno's face has gone dark. "Is altering a few decrepit souls any worse than what you have been doing all these centuries?" His face becomes livid. "Is it any worse than manipulating the Royal bloodline to your own ends, Fairie?!"

"ENOUGH!" A fireball comes unbidden from "Silvera's" arms, barrelling down on Beyno. But Beyno dodges and returns a fireball of his own.

"Ye gods!" you mutter. But you have no time to ponder about the two magic-users, for the were-hounds have caught your scent and are charging straight for you.

You claw. They bite.

You scream. They howl.

You find that your wings are a hindrance to you in close combat. You consider changing to dragon form, but you realize that your dragon form won't fit in the tower. And human form against these beasts is out of the question.

You make a final desperate slash, hurling the bulk of the pack back a few meters and flap your ten-meter-span wings hard.

The were-hounds fly away from you across the room. Some fall out the windows, howling all the way down. And one knocks Silvera unconscious.

You curse and make a grab for the king. But Beyno is one step ahead of you. The knife he holds to the King's neck bears a handle made of a weredragon's tooth engraved with the arcane symbols of death. The aura it emits is unmistakably threatening.

"Back! Or I gut this poor excuse for a king!"

You back away, weak from your scuffle with the were-hounds and unsure of how to deal with a magical knife.

"Where did you get that knife?" you demand, offended by the handle it bears.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Beyno grins mysteriously. His face turns mockingly sober. "It's a shame you didn't agree to my offer, weredragon. But you should be glad to know that your were-Daddy would be SO proud of you."

"You knew my birth father?" you ask incredulously. You hardly even knew your birth father. You always thought you were somehow abandoned and never thought much more of your true parents... until now.

"Let's just say I was at his funeral. And I kept a souvenir." Beyno flicks the knife blade meaningfully and smiles maleficently.

The shock of realization is almost debilitating. You can only grit your teeth and growl, "You inhuman..."

"Bastard!" A flash of silver rushes behind Beyno and Silvera appears, one arm grappling Beyno's neck and one fiery arm raised directly above him and the King, ready to strike.

"Release him or you both die!"

The King's eyes widen.

"NO!" you cry. "Beyno is mine!"

Silvera ignores you, eyes intent on Beyno's mug.

Beyno sputters. "You're crazy! You wouldn't kill your own King!"

"As you implied, the King is but a pawn and is useless to me once in your hands." The silver woman's face is grim. "There are others. Are you willing to give your life for an insignificant pawn?" Silvera's eyes bore into Beyno's soul.

Eyes panicked, Beyno makes one last desperate ploy.

"Weredragon! The death of your father was by Silvera's command! Help me kill her and I shall take you to your mother! Your birth mother!"

Your birth-mother...

Silvera shoots a warning glance at you. "Do not believe everything you hear, dragonling."

"Should I then believe in nothing?" you say with a vehemence that startles even you. "You have told me almost nothing since you led me away from my prison." Your heated words stop and your voice falters. "I... I don't know what to believe anymore. I just want to find out whether my parents are all right and rebuild the inn... Hell, I don't know if I can even do that!" You look directly at Silvera, tone resolute but eyes imploring. "Tell me, 'Silvera.' What is going on?"

The silver woman becomes quiet and finally says, "There are some things that are best left unsaid."

"Don't you see, weredragon?" Beyno cries triumphantly. "We're all just pawns to her, playing her twisted game! Come! Join me! Together we can rid this world of the curse known as Silvera!"

Your mind whirls. Beyno is crazy. You are sure of that. But Silvera is not exactly sane in your book either. Her mystery and coldness is disturbing to say the least, not to mention her present actions. And what is this talk of Silvera and pawns and manipulation of the Royal bloodline? For all Beyno's rantings, however, you do sense a hint of truth. Even about your birth-father's death by Silvera's command? And your birth-mother... You shake your head vigorously. What to believe?

The once clear focus of your mind is now a muddle. You look from Silvera to Beyno.

The King lies paralyzed with fear.

Who do you believe?

Contributed by Wayne Sung
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Last modified March 3, 2003