'Fetch me my red gown, it is my favourite,' Dayel asked. pointing to his proudly hung gown. It was red, laced with a golden thread along the foot creating a dragon's head breathing garnet jewelled fire up along the gown. He liked to think of himself as a Dragon King, he who shares Dragon powers. But he knew the only thing he did that was Dragon-like was the countless Dragon emblems and patterns on his clothing and of course, his name.
But that still did not make him like any other King before him, no he had a strong will much like his Father. But like his Mother he hid it from everyone. As a child in the castle, he was quiet and preferred grasping a book than a sword, too much of his Father's disappointment. Replacing the lack of swordsmanship he made up with his unparalleled mind for strategy and power over people. the many Lords greatly respected him for it and rested assured when he was crowned.
However he personally was weak, his body was the lacking aspect in which he felt powerless with. Give him the battle to command and he could beat the opponent with twenty good men without missing Dinner. But in a sword fight, he would fall even before swinging. This was made obvious in his duel on his 17th birth-day, facing Sir Arthur Valor he scored a deep cut from his right breast to his groin, ever since he has never carried more than a dagger.
His servant fetched his gown, the jewels on it were shining beautifully. When he slipped into its furs which lined the inner he felt a rise in his power. the very gown he wore gave him power, the power of a King.
As usual, he proceeded to the Throne room. It was a great long room dominated by a colossal throne, it was a beautiful sight. it felt as though it was solid gold from the bright light of the first sun. Many thought it was made from gold but it had been forged in iron, but the dragons used their magic and turned it into solid Dragon-Crystal. It was clouded and shone like regular gold, but still, its transparency was the giveaway.
When he stepped closer, his power felt stronger. It was known Dragon Magic bled off like smoke from a fire, latching itself onto anyone who comes close. It empowered them and granted them a sense of power.
This is what Dayel wanted.
But what he noticed when he strode towards the throne was a figure sat on the Throne. He stopped at the foot of the stairway leading to it and looked up.
'Good Morning my King' called Aryn, he sat slouched in the chair.
'It's a beautiful morning, even brighter with the Second Sun rising first. How are you feeling?' he asked with a smirk.
Dayel did not move. the pair of Knights at his side had already drawn and aimed their blades. They looked at the King for orders but none came.
'I asked, How are you feeling my King. Can you not speak?' he stood from his slouch 'Come on!' he clapped loudly.
Dayel's legs shook, his entire body was shaking restlessly.
'The King!' cried one of his Guards, he caught the King as he collapsed spitting blood from his mouth. It seemed down his cheeks like molten rock from a volcano.
He coughed and choked, he was writhing in pain. his throat was splitting, he could feel the skin tear and shred as his hands clawed deeply. the blood pulsed out of him like a river, thick black tar was mixed in, it slithered onto the ground like blooded slugs. In the pain, all of sudden his felt nothing.
'What have you done to the King!' the Guard held his sword tight and began striding up the stairway, he breathed heavily ready for a kill.
But when his blade rose and fell Aryn had gone. Vanished in a second.
A voice called behind him 'Were you trying to kill me? That is rude'. Aryn stood at the Throne room door, an impossible distance.
'Don't try and touch me, the King will have your heads' he rose his hand pointing to a figure standing away from them. He wore a bright golden crown much like Dayel's only the face wearing it was green, green with rot.
'This, This is our King!' the creature stepped forward. the air surrounding him turned sour. The creature appeared, his face seemed to have an unearthly look, however it looked unremarkably like a Man, a man named Dayel Harkinshire.
YOU ARE READING
Gindew the Lesser KnightFantasy
In the World of Arramar, there is a darkness brewing. The Walls of the Worlds are now cracking and the destructive Dark Realm is creeping into the world once again. Gindew the Lesser Knight has spent the last millennia living in solitude, but now th...