The Hidden Ones

Chapter 5

King Arthur's POV

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    Damnable humans, I caught someone in the crowd mutter, and their ridiculous laws. the voice continued.

    "Who dares to speak with that tongue in my castle?" looking around the room with open eyes, I searched for the matching voice, "Tell me!" I yelled, almost sounding desperate for an answer.

    A faint laugh erupted from the room, but away from my subjects, A pitiful king, worthless humans, perfect meals don't you think? The voice had almost little to no mercy to its tone. As they stopped chattering, all of my doors and curtains slammed shut, screams erupted from my guards and subjects, but their were no visible threats in the darkness of the room. I ran to what I believed to be a set of curtains and heaved the large curtains open to shine a burst of light through the darkened room. A large river of crimson blood flowed to my boots and in every possible direction away from the mound of bodies in the middle of the room.

    "Show yourself, beast!"

    A low laugh echoed in the shadowed corners around me, seemingly mocking my every word. The mocking laugh gradually ceased to a haunting silence. I will only show myself when I am whole again. They murmered.

    I gulped, Whole again? I questioned myself. They started to give an amused chirp.

    Do you think that Tymberwolf is the only one who wants you dead? I am the haunting disease that plagues darkness, nightmares, and well... Death! You really know how to make your enemies dear. Your species is like a broken minded herd of cattle just waiting for the worst, but it only happens when you let your guard down and stop worrying about the farmers. They continued to chirp with amusement as I looked around the room furiously for a source of the sound. Death is only dawning, Arthur. It is merely a newborn infant waiting for itself to grow older to discover its full potential.

    When the chirping and voice ceased, I relaxed, feeling the relief of the light as the curtains and doors reopened. Some more of my guards hurried in and stared at the bodies of both guard and civilian. I looked at the mound one last time before falling into the river of crimson before me with a splash.

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    "Sire, are you ok?" My main servant, Mickael, asked as I lay in bed, "You look ill, should I get the healer?"

    "No, I shall be fine. Help me up." As commanded, Mickael helped me sit up from my bed, "How long have I been asleep, Mickael?"

    "A day, sire." he worryingly said, "How did you get that mark?" pointing at my strange shaped scratch, he added, "It is a hard wound to heal because of its shape. The healer told me that while you were still asleep."

    The scar looked to be the shape of the dragons Vikings drew on their ships and shields. It ran along the side of my chest and swayed back and forth with every breath I took. Not even my healer has seen anything like it. For some odd reason, Mickael rushed out of my bedroom and the door swung closed behind him.

    Your servant was right to leave. It would be a shame to end the life of one so loyal now, would it not. I stayed silent, Of course, you are the silent when afraid type. Lucky for you, dear, I now have a hold on your soul. You see the marking on your side. Well, that pretty much states that you have a soul to give me when you die and that you have a dragon to ride until that death.

    "Wait, you are a dragon?" I asked, dumbfounded,  "You said you would show yourself when you were whole again. What is that supposed to mean?"

    Not a split second after I asked the question, a large dark purple shadow appeared on the open far wall. Swirling and shaping, the shadow slowly formed itself into a decent sized dragon made of bones, shadow, and little flesh. They had large wings of bone fingers with strong, thin strands of skin holding them together, connecting one finger to another. A thick mass of shadow swarmed and flowed through every bone and strand of skin all along the body and wings. Their front and hind legs had the most skin on them out of the whole body, their thick black muscles strung around the bones like a woven blanket wrapped around a small child.

    The top half of the skull had two sets of large, crooked, and broken horns along with thick black muscles lightly strung around the eye sockets and top jaw, leaving the bottom jaw bear. Along the heaving chest of the dragon was flesh wisely strung to hold the organs in place, letting a few strands of the small and large intestines fall through the cracks between the stringy flesh. Jagged, knife-like spikes ran over the top and bottom of the dragon's spine and tail, looking as if they could kill you without effort from the dragon itself.

    This is what I mean! They gave a deep, haunting roar like the skeletal dragon the boy turned into. You mistook me for a mere civilian, bah! I am far greater than anyone or thing you have ever known, even Tymber herself struggles to defeat me! I am bound to the shadows by a curse laid upon my soul by herself and I wish for you to slay her for me. Never leaving the shadows has bound me to you, I have killed your family and everyone else in your bloodline to be alone with a King who intends to wipe out the very creature I am. A long silence followed their rant.

    "So you... have wiped out everyone in my family... but me... so I could live for your own sake?!" I yelled furiously, "I have endured unknown deaths of my family and a rash kingmanship because of you?! What makes you think I will help you?" I stared with fear into the large dragon's eyes, waiting for what was to come.

    Haha... hahaha...hahahaha... Hahahahaha! They abruptly stopped laughing at my question and replied, What makes me think you will help! Ha! Great question. Inching closer to my face and the ground, they snorted, Great question indeed.

    They backed me into my door, my hand just over the handle. I used all my strength in pulling the door open, but it was locked shut, "Guards!" I yelled as loud as my lungs would allow me to. It sounded like three or four men rushed down the hall, armor clanking, and tried to pull the door open.

    I hope you know your efforts are futile. You cannot escape death. Then like a fading dream, they vanished into the shadows.

    The guards flung the door open and looked around the room, then stood infront of me to guard me from whatever dangers may come.

    "I must have been... must have been seeing things... this wound is really getting to me." I breathed to my guards. One of them helped pick me up off of the floor and onto the bed. When I was on the bed, two guards stood outside my door while two stood inside incase of immediate help, I shall call you Death then. I said to myself.