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Tbou: Hopebreaker

In a magical world full of discord and chaos, William plans to make his mark by becoming a Dragon Rider to fight an unstoppable Blight, avenge his mother, and save the world of Kalos. Little did he know, fate is unpredictable, and the story he is joining in this realm of horrors, magic, God-like beings and unnatural foes is not for the faint of heart. Those who set out on adventures in Kalos either return with nothing or return having impacted the entire world. Will William and his allies Rise against the tides, or Drown against its unbearable weight?

TylerRogue · แฟนตาซี
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
21 Chs

Chapter 4

Dragons and the Blight

(small graphic content)

William's Perspective

Minutes go by as my father and I make it to the mountain's base center, the Knight's Square, as people call it. There, the Matriarch stands, wrapping her wings around the center, leaving only a single entranceway. We make our way in as many riders perch onto the bridges and pillars of the mountain, looking down towards the Square as a single rider stands underneath the Matriarch.

"Dear citizens of Hearthglen, welcome to the grand celebration of the 200th millennium, Festival of Souls! Let's celebrate this momentous occasion together." The person riding had shiny silver armor with a large shoulder guard on the left side. Their hair was long and brown, combed neatly to the right.

My father guided me to a spot in the back so we could oversee everything. I leaned against a large pot that used to house a massive plant as I looked down at the Square.

In the Square, rows of seats arranged in a circular shape descended into the ground, accommodating almost four hundred people. The speaker was pacing at the bottom of the Square, delivering a big speech to the now fully packed audience.

"Today's demonstration is for us to revel in the might of the Dragon Knights. For an entire age, we have been at war with the Blight and its mastermind, Asgard, the Kingdom of Slaves."

My father scoffed, catching me off guard. He used to tell me that Asgard was the Kingdom of Slaves because the King always bought slaves for his kingdom.

I heard rumors that the King of Asgard is the rightful King of Kalos. I never understood what that meant or why he would be considered such a thing. He's the King of Slaves. How is he considered the King of Kalos?

"Our first event shall display the power of those bonded to a dragon." The rider removed his armor and shirt, exposing his muscular torso to the crowd, raising his arms as the crowd cheered for him. Even a few men and women started to whistle at him. "As you all know, all riders' bodies are enhanced by the Dragon Force given to us by our connection to our dragons. A blessing, given to us by Omara. However, the longer and more experience we have with the Dragon Force, the stronger a rider will be and, soon enough, a Dragon Knight, whose body is closer to a dragon's."

The rider waves his hand as a group of soldiers march down to the center, where the rider is. The soldiers had crossbows and spears in their arms.

"These fine soldiers are here to help me demonstrate my and my fellow riders' might." The rider poses as a few of the soldiers readied their crossbows. "Ready. Aim. Fire!"

Everyone shouted out in fear, flinching at the cracking sound of the crossbow firing as the bolts whistled through the air. Even I closed my eyes.

The Square was filled with silence as people murmured in dismay.

The only thing I heard was a few thuds and then silence. Opening my eyes, I saw the rider standing there, torso untouched, with no visible wounds present, as the bolts lay on the ground in front of him. I looked at him in awe. Everyone cheered in awe, amazed at the rider's durability.

You're telling me I would be immune to physical damage? No wonder the Blight loses to the Order.

"As you can see, there are no injuries on me. Every Dragon Rider's skin is as hard as dragon scales, just as much as our armor is. Only weapons infused with magic can harm us, and even then, The rider waved his hand again as the soldiers holding the spears took the spot where the soldiers with crossbows stood. "And now, all the way from Asgard, are the Asgardian Spears. Crafted and enchanted with Asgardian might, these weapons are used against all foes in Asgard's way. Beautiful and deadly."

Taking a better look at the spears, I saw that they were silver in color, with engravings spiraling around the shaft. The blade at the top was long and shining brightly with a magical glow. Staring at it briefly, I realized it resembled my father's bow.

"Hey, father, those engravings on the spear look similar to your bow," I said, leaning over so he could hear.

"My bow was a gift from the guild, which, as you know, is linked to Asgard."

"Ooooh," I said, leaning my head back in understanding.

It makes sense now. I always wondered where that bow originated, but I never exactly expected it to be from Asgard. Sure, its design isn't typical for a bow and is far more detailed than the spears, but the idea that it came from Asgard didn't sit well with me. Especially when it felt there was more to the story behind that bow.

I returned to my spot on the large pot, returning my attention to the Square.

The Dragon Rider then took one of the soldier's chest plates, made with metals I didn't know. "Before we start slashing at my flesh, let us demonstrate the power of these spears." The rider held the chest plate before him as he signaled for one of the soldiers to strike. With one colossal slash, the soldier cut straight through the chest plate, cutting it into two with a clean cut.

I stood there in shock.

It took one strike! How's that possible? Sure, if it were a Dragon Knight using the spear, I could see it being possible, but an ordinary soldier? That didn't seem right. How can a simple soldier holding a simple spear be so deadly? Was it the magic embedded into the spear or the material itself?

"Every soldier of Asgard possesses a weapon similar to these spears. That means every soldier is capable of great destruction, which is why the Blight doesn't attack them."

Everyone was murmuring in worry. Even I trembled with concern, feeling goosebumps rise on my skin.

We have been at war with Asgard since the 2nd Age, almost a millennium ago. If Asgard had weapons like this, why haven't they attacked us?

"But don't let that stop you from being afraid. Let me demonstrate the might of a Dragon Knight!" The rider roars out as he positions himself in front of the soldier. He waves his hand at him, telling him to strike.

I looked around, as everyone was at the edge of their seats. I grabbed onto a railing nearby, wanting to get a closer look. Curiosity was getting to me as my heart started to race up, feeling my chest thud with each beat.

What's going to happen to the rider? Was it going to hurt him? My thoughts raced as I stared at the rider.

The soldier rushes at the rider, bringing the spear over his head and swinging it down at his chest. Everyone, including myself, gasped out loud as a clear cut on the rider's chest was exposed.

But this cut wasn't as horrific as we thought it was. It wasn't a gash or a flesh wound, just a simple cut. No blood, nothing. Just a red scratch mark. The rider grabbed the spear, brought it over his head, and slammed it onto his knees, snapping the spear into two. The rider discarded it like it was nothing but junk.

Everyone cheered as the rider brought his hands over his head. "We, the Order of Drake, will protect Hearthglen and Drakelene!" Everyone applauded the rider as he donned his armor. "But now it's time to show you all our true enemy."

The rider looked up at his fellow knights and riders as they all dropped from their dragons, landing in Knight Square, startling everyone. I started to grow weary.

What did he mean by "true enemy?"

"Father?" I look for guidance. My father crossed his arms with a serious look that I rarely see.

"Watch."

I went quiet. My father's words were precise and cold.

Turning my attention back to the Square I saw a group of soldiers carrying a cage that rattled nonstop, as what I assumed to be three riders walking behind them along with a Dragon Knight.

Whatever was in that cage was dangerous. The cage was covered in a metal seal, protecting whatever was inside from prying eyes.

"I will warn all here," the rider said. "This thing is not for the faint of heart. If you believe you won't be able to handle what is inside this cage, I beg for you to leave. The same goes for the children." I gulped loudly as a rotten smell polluted the air around us. "But within this cage lies our greatest enemy to Drakelene and the world. That which we, The Order of Drake, swear to hold back, and that we have."

People started to leave the Square, hiding in the back where my father and I were. I began to get nervous, as if something was not right. But this was it. It had to be.

A Creature of the Blight.

What are they? What did they look like?

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see my father's hand. He nodded as if he knew what I was thinking.

Wait. How did he know?

Many soldiers grabbed the Asgardian Spears and held the blade at the cage door. A single rider approached it and unlocked it. Dragons that once perched on the walls of any structure got closer, even landing in front of us, eyeing the cage. Even the Matriarch lowered her head towards the cage.

Everything went silent as both men, women, and children mumbled silently. The metal cage door slowly opened with a loud screeching noise, sending a chill down my spine. My heart started to pound in my chest. The world went quiet. Nothing but a constant soft ringing in my ear. The inside of the cage was dark and unable to be seen. Then, a hand emerged.

No.

A single leg emerged, torn apart by blackish-yellow tendrils pieced around it as if they were supporting it, as part of the leg muscle was missing. Then, a head emerged. I almost puked.

The smell was putrid and death-bringing, as people's faces were etched with fear and despair. The jaws were split into two, with each of what I could guess being appendages filled with rows of teeth. The upper jaw slank forward, contorted, as we hear the grotesque snap from the creature's bones. Its face was ripped apart, exposing tissue and bone, as more blackish-yellow tendrils emerged from the creature's flesh, appearing to be what was holding it all together.

I looked at its cold, lifeless eyes, almost pure white. More of the creature crawled out with a rotten-like appearance, its body beyond repair and recognition. The flesh looked almost squishy and moldy. It was as if it were mauled to death, as its left side was missing, but no guts or intestines were there. As if they were missing. Each step left a crunching sound as joints were forced to move in ways they weren't designed to do.

People cried out as the front row of the Square became a mess as the crowd tried to flee. The riders and knights stood their ground, blocking access to the people if the creature decided to attack. People stood far away from the unholy abomination.

I felt absolute dread, my heart sinking down to a place I never thought possible as I held my breath, unable to breathe. Never have I seen such horror in my life. It was as if I was looking at death itself. A mockery of life.

The poor creature almost resembled a dog, or what was left of it. A gut-wrenching wail that sounded like it was in pain erupted from it. I clenched my stomach as I felt myself getting close to puking up the Wyrm Tail I had eaten.

The soldiers stumbled back, frightened by the creature, but the riders stood their ground—unwavering, without fear or hesitation.

The creature lunges at one of the soldiers, causing them to fall over. The audience screamed out in terror as a single rider swung their sword at the monster, cutting its head clean off. As the head made contact with the ground, everyone went silent.

Its body hits the ground with a dirty thud. Black blood spewed out of the thing's neck as the cobblestone flooring developed black-like veins.

Was it corrupting the ground, like how to corrupt that thing?

The rider picked it up and raised it above their heads. A single red dragon raised its head, letting loose a breath of fire at the rider.

Everyone stared in concern. 

The dragon stopped its fiery breath as the rider appeared unscathed; the corpse turned to ash, and the ground scorched.

There was no cheer, only sadness and fear. Men, women, and children cry out as the scent of decay and death remains in the air.

My heart started to rise back up from whatever pit it fell into, but my stomach was still upside down. Finally, I let out a greedy gasp as I sucked in as much air as possible.

"The Blight is very real," said the rider, who had spoken to the audience from the beginning. "Its plague affects everyone and turns them into these creatures. It even affects riders and dragons alike. The Festival of Soul isn't just to celebrate our God. It is also to cherish and remember every rider, dragon, soldier, and civilian lost to the Blight. Please partake with me in our traditional prayer."

The rider took out a mask similar to the one I wear currently. He took it up and lit it on fire, and it started to float up into the sky. A few other riders took off their masks and did the same.

They all walked around with matches as people lifted their masks, lighting them up. I did the same. Surprisingly, my father did as well.

After everything was said and done, my father walked me back up the road.

My mind was still in shock. That thing killed my mother. Or one of the creatures that killed my mother. The Order of Drake faces those monsters every day?

My heart started to race again. 

How was I supposed to stop the Blight? To kill those things?

Why am I thinking like this? My father has been training me for this, and the Order would train me in dragon combat to fight the Blight. So why am I doubting now? Am I afraid?

No. No. I can't be scared. I have given too much to be frightened. I have to do this. I must do this. If the Blight can affect anyone, regardless of who or what they are, it must be dealt with.

I looked down at my hand, noticing it was shaking. Clenching my shaking hand into a fist, furrowing my brows as I tried to control myself.

"You good, Will?" I turned around to see my father as he placed his hand on my shoulder.

My mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions. The sight of the creature had shaken me.

But what confused and angered me was that my father knew. It donned on me earlier, before that thing showed itself. I had to ask him. It felt like my head was about to burst from all the confusion. The Blight never traveled to Hearthglen. So, how did he know what it truly was?

I was silent for a moment, unable to speak as the creature's deformed body was still plaguing my mind. "Did you know?" My voice cracked against my wishes.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice trembled.

He kept this from me. For how long? And why? He was supposed to help me. To train me. To prepare me for this. Did he doubt me? Becoming a Dragon Rider was all I trained for. What he trained me for. It's what anyone would dream of. To fly on a dragon's back into battle.

"There was no way to sugarcoat the truth." My father sighed, looking down at the floor in shame. "You would've been afraid if you fought the Blight without knowing, just like everyone else here, like me and every other knight."

Anger rose in me. "You don't know that!" I shouted as my heart started to beat rapidly. My father kept this from me when I should've known. "This wasn't something you should keep away from me. You were supposed to ensure I was ready for this."

"I didn't want to discourage you in any way. Not until I knew you were ready."

"Until I was ready? When is that? You heard what Barren said to me! I am ready! You know I am," I retorted. After so long, he had kept this secret from me. He knew about it but didn't do a thing about it. He must have been planning never to let me try to join the Order from the beginning.

"Will." He put his hand on my shoulder. His voice was soft.

I pushed his hand off. "Don't touch me." I walked over to a wall to hold myself up. I could feel my face all scrunched up from frustration and anger. Before I realized it, I punched the wall, taking a brick out. "How was I supposed to be ready for something like that?"

There was silence in the air. It was all I needed to know. I walked off alone, punching another brick out of the wall.

Was this what I needed to be ready for? What was else? Was actually capturing a heraraptor really going to prepare me for the Blight? I wanted to fight the Blight. I have to fight. It's all I wanted to do when I was a child—ride a dragon into battle and strike down the Blight. But after seeing what I just saw, I doubted myself.

Could I strike down something like that?

Minutes passed as I kept walking; my father was nowhere in sight.

Good. 

I didn't want him near. Who knows how long he was planning on keeping this from me? I needed to think on my own. He always keeps secrets. Always has an alternative motive. I'm sick and tired of it.

Walking down the same road that Aunt Silfe was on. However, she was no longer there. Looking up at the now blackened sky, the once-so-called mask that everyone was wearing had been lit, with their embers floating up to the sky. Each ember sparkled like the stars, burning brightly as the wind pushed them throughout Hearthglen.

It was peaceful.

Like, what just happened never happened. Families who weren't at the show continued to play and celebrate. Ignorant to what really lies out there.

I sympathized for them, knowing that our protectors fought monsters off so people could have these moments of peace. That's when a haunting thought entered my mind.

Did my mother turn into one of those things? What would've happened if I saw her just like that dog?

I almost puked at the thought. My heart was sinking as if it were stopping a knife from penetrating it. My eyes felt like they were bulging out of my skull as I tried to hold myself up.

That's when I felt something.

A presence.

Turning around, I spotted a knight donned in dark, faded orange leather armor with silver metal padding on his shoulders, upper torso, and shins. He was leaning against a wall. His white teeth sink into the skin of a red apple. His spiked black hair supported his roughed-up face, and his black eyes glared at me with a robust, piercing look. A fade of black covered his chin, a sign of a five o'clock shadow.

I looked at him suspiciously. Was he the one that I had been sensing?

"Disgusting things they are, aren't they?" He spoke out.

"What?"

"Creatures of the Blight. Poor, tormented creatures turned and corrupted beyond recognition. To rise among the dead to turn all that exists to the Blight."

I thought heavily of his words. That thing barely looked like an actual animal; only a few fragments of its past self remained.

"You still want to fight them?"

"What?"

"I said, do you still want to fight them?"

I looked at him, surprised, but unable to answer.

Could I actually kill them, knowing they were once living things? 

"I don't know. It's all I wanted to do. But I didn't know what they were."

"It's a psychological attack to strike fear and dread into its enemies." The knight walked towards me, tossing his eaten apple to the ground. "And it works. To see old friends turned into monsters. Loved ones. Even children. Every rider and knight knows what you are feeling."

My heart ached. Children. Really? Could I strike children turned by the Blight down? What if it was my father?

"That's why our dragons choose who to bond with. If the individual can pass a test, so. Do you still want to fight the Blight?"

I stood there. My breathing was a mess. Hesitating and weak, trembling at every exhale.

I thought long and hard.

No ordinary person could do this. But if what he said was true, if I could pass this test, I could fight the Blight. It would prove to everyone that I was ready, including my father.

I looked at the knight, staring into his eyes. Glaring with purpose. One word came out.

"Yes."

The knight smirked as he raised his hand toward me.

"Come."