Dragonya

Falcon stood under a blanket of stars, praying to the ancients for guidance. The guidance he was seeking was as much for himself as it was for his father, but deeper inside the guidance he truly sought was more for a path to courage. He wanted the courage to stand up to Perrin through more than words and slay Edgar where he slept. Falcon felt what he believed was pure evil dwelling in Edgars heart and soul, but he would not be able to convince Perrin of this until it was too late. He clinched his fists and held back his angry and hexed screams.

“Hello.” A voice from the shadows greeted.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” Falcon demanded.

An old man, barely able to walk, came toward him. As he approached, Falcon noticed his flesh was pure white, almost blinding under the moonlight. His eyes glowed a faded but distinct shade of blue.

“Hello, Falcon.” The man said.

“How do you know my name?” Falcon asked.

“Oh, I know plenty.” The man replied.

“What do you want?”

“To tell you a story. Will you hear me?”

“A story? So long as your story is not long, I have a hard road ahead.”

“Don’t we all?” The old man sat down on rotting tree trunk and let out a dry heaving cough.

“Are you ok?” Falcon asked, concerned.

“People used to pass near here on the road to the south, looking for a small tavern by the name of The Screeching Dragon. Do you know it?” The man said.

“There are no taverns on that road near here. The nearest tavern is at least two days travel, but to the north.”

“So you have never heard the story of The Screeching Dragon. Probably better to have no knowledge of such a poisoned past.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the birthplace of the wizard Midrak. Or at least the place of his conception.”

“What?”

“Midrak had many fathers, all men who claimed to be sorcerers and magicians. All drunkards and lunatics if you ask me.” The man let out another cough, a bit of blood shined on his lip.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I was the keep at that tavern, the one who let those men tear that poor womans flesh to dine on her soul. I was cursed for it and have kept quiet until now. I saw it in your eyes and heard in your words how much you needed to hear true words from cursed lips so that you could have the same courage those men did.”

Falcon drew his blade on the man.

“Listen old man,” Falcon warned, “You should have learned to better tame your lips before speaking to me. You liken me to filth and I cannot let that stand. Take your words back and I may let you keep your tongue.”