A Dragoneer's Crusade

Prologue

Prologue

There was a room devoid of light and was spacious enough to hold hundreds of men yet it remained deserted. It faintly stank of mildew, wet grass and something else that rotted several decades ago. It was cold at the same time, despite the lack of ventilation--perhaps it was the moist that evaporated into the stuffy air.

The enormous double doors swung inward, bringing with it a flood of light. This revealed a throne-like seat at one end of the room very briefly before the doors were closed with a heavy thud once more. Surrounded by darkness, the visitor walked straight with his back upright, tightly clutching against his oversized cloak that masked his identity with one hand.

And with long, calm strides, he reached the throne. Languidly, he dropped down on one knee and bowed his head wordlessly. The flaps of his cloak pooled around him like black liquid. At first, it may seem as if he were bowing to an empty seat but as time passed and his eyes adjusted, he could see the slight movements of the shadow occupying it.

"I see you failed to execute the task given to you," the shadow finally spoke after a moment's silence. It was a rich bass voice that echoed gently against the stone walls. "How unfortunate,"

The cloaked man did not respond.

"But I see you managed to get away," the shadow sighed before tilting his head the other way, "and you still have the guts to face me."

"Tell me, what reason have you for me to spare your life?" The shadowed man pulled his coat back to reveal the ominous hints of his obsidian hilt. "At this point, what would I regret should your death be upon my hands?"

The man in the shadows could feel his skin prickle with sweat despite the cool temperature. It was not from fear though, nor was it from anxiety. But perhaps from the anticipation that went on as his visitor took his time.

"I know how to get the dragon," the cloaked man finally spoke.

"I have already heard this," the shadow sighed, already drawing his sword half way through his archaic sheathe. He had no time for this tomfoolery.

But with the visitor's confidence never wavering, he added, "and I know where to find the Lost Prince,"

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