webnovel

Trials Saga: Night Slash

The mark is the sign of the prodigious. The one that everyone awakens between 9 and 16 years of age, thus dictating the path to take in life. What is your skill? Sculptor? Warrior? Governor? Divinity draws the path, you decide how to walk it. Talent, or effort, is what will determine if you will be able to overcome the trials. Titania, like everyone else, has her mark. A mark to take revenge on everyone, even if it means becoming a demon. She no longer has friends or family to call by her real name, but her enemies always whisper Night Slash's name with fear.

Chioban · แฟนตาซี
Not enough ratings
14 Chs

4

Fernard IV gazes at the ferns and moldy rocks, his brow perpetually furrowed, as if expecting the swamp to retreat at any moment, terrified by his severity and hatred. But the mud specter does not even flinch, still clinging to and biting the earth with teeth that sicken the fish and corrupt the roots of the plants. The monarch shrinks into his fur coat, a garment that feels heavy from the viscous moisture floating in the air. He turns around, intending to cross the stone bridge and climb the stairs to the castle, but freezes as he notices the tall man in a tattered hood standing in the way.

"An assassin...?" Fernard IV mutters, his mind trying to work out which of his men betrayed him, or which of the neighboring villages he has been bothered by. The surprise grows when the stranger plants a knee and lowers his head in obeisance.

"I beg you, your majesty..." The stranger's voice is deep, a mixture of desperation and dignity. "Allow me to be part of your kingdom. I will swear to serve you with courage and obedience until the fire of my life is over"

The king makes an effort to come out of his spasm and say:

"A knight errant. There are not too many of your kind left in these passages" He puts a hand under his beard and scratches himself, then gives a humorless smile. "Though on second thought, kings have not been too plentiful for some time now. Tell me, what's your name?"

"Raudo... Raudo Strongchest"

"Sir Strongchest, I have not rewards enough to pay for your valour. My kingdom is poor and in need... And none of my advisors know how to rescue it. I recommend that you continue on journey"

The king advances and passes by the wanderer. Raudo, without raising his head, he insists.

"I will be satisfied with the minimum and indispensable, just let me serve"

Fernard IV stares at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What kind of past did you have to have to find yourself in the urgency of begging for service to a decadent monarch? What is your history?"

For the first time during the entire conversation Raudo makes eye contact with the king.

"That, your majesty, is the one thing about me that I will refuse to deliver. My past will be lost with me the day I die... Unlike the stain of my shame, which will be perpetual"

Fernard IV, after a minute of meditation and hesitation, accepted Raudo as his knight. At first he designated him as a simple soldier whom the rest of the warriors regarded with suspicion. Who was this handsome, swarthy stranger, with dark brown hair and a beard traced by pale scars?

It did not improve the situation that Raudo's smile and chivalry won the hearts of the ladys, and that the king summoned him for long hours of conversation at the edge of the swamp. The captain of the guard, the most jealous of the platoon, vented his envy by appointing Raudo to clean the latrines and charging him with patrolling the thickest areas of the swamp, where the corpses of clumsy-footed soldiers nourished the muddy bed.

No matter how dangerous or demeaning the task, Raudo did it without complaint. Then one day his luck changed...

A winged shadow passed over the statue of Fernard the Enlightened and crossed the village, in the process blocking out the sun. The children, seeing him, pointed their little hands; the mothers, directing their attention to where the little ones were pointing, turned pale with horror and grabbed their children and hid them in the houses.

In the throne room, Xar, the usual appointed representative of the peasants, gave an account to the king for the deplorable performance of the orchards. The bald man explained to the monarch how the swamp devoured the largest portion of the harvest.

"I beg you, your majesty, let us grant your indulgence this season. As soon as the rains are over, we are sure to be able to drain the swamp... This time the project will bear fruit, whatever the cost"

Fernard IV, seated on his throne, listens to the report with an ashen countenance, his cheek resting on his fist, and wearing the crystal crown tilted on a head of hair that is already beginning to show gray. To the left, on a second throne of low back, takes place his queen of generous flesh, in whose round face of rubicundos cheeks is perceived the incomprehension of who knows the hunger only by ear. To the right, on another throne with an even lower back, Fernard's daughter, Princess Foralena, of slender upright figure and caramel-colored curls, takes her place, with a mark illuminating her forehead of a clear blue almost white, formed by delicate lines like the silhouette of a swan. That perpetual glow proves that Foralena remains pure of body.

Flanking the peasants are soldiers in rudimentary armor, barely iron breastplates and helmets on a set of hardened leather, and spears in their hands. Raudo is among them. Only the captain of the guard wears full body armor, from whose helmet he merely casts stern glances at Xar and the villagers accompanying him.

A shadow covers the circular skylight on the roof. Mute and startled, they all watch the broad figure enter and destroy the stone frame, raining down shards of glass and heavy debris. The peasants retreat. The soldiers rush to the throne and form a wall of spears. The creature slams its wide body into the ground and the entire castle shudders.

The dust settles revealing fully red oval eyes, set in a thick face of green and blue scales, where also take place a nose that is barely two holes, a mouth almost as wide as its belly, four very short horns, and a dewlap that goes down and connects with the golden belly. From the creature's back lazily extend four membranous wings. The arms and legs, though three times the size of a man's, seemed minuscule in such a bulky body.

Something crashes and clinks against the floor. When Raudo looks up, he discovers the captain of the guard lying on his back in a puddle of his own piss.

Fernard IV, like the rest, pales.... But he forces his arms to push himself to his feet. Legs trembling and teeth chattering, the king questions the dragon.

"What do you want, monster? What do you seek?"

The dragon squints his eyeballs. Its large mouth opens, revealing two rows of fangs and only fangs, from which a guttural sound emanates that spreads through the castle with a fetid trail, the echo coming from a cave filled with corpses.

"The writers created the giants to test the power... The sphinxes to test wisdom... Do you know, king of the mud, for what purpose they created the dragons?"

The monarch, with his eyes dancing all around and impregnated with blood, tries to find an answer to satisfy the beast, and almost gets it after remembering a round that his mother sang to him when he was a child. But the dragon interrupts with a roar.

"Courage! To prove courage!"

The bricks shake and threaten to jump off the walls. The echo of the exclamation ceases, but the tinkling of the tiles crashing against each other from hands dominated by fear, persists.

Fernard IV looks to the left, discovers his wife lying on the throne, with her mouth open and her eyes blank. He looks to the right and finds his daughter stiff and pale as a ghost. The ruler returns his attention to the dragon, clenches his fists, grits his teeth, and forces one of his trembling legs to take a step.

"This is my kingdom..."

At first he stutters, but the more the syllables add up the stronger the words become.

"I am the son of Fernard III the Temperate, grandson of Fernard II the Defender, and descendant of the Enlightened"

Around the head of Fernard IV a line of gold lights up, a glow amplified by the crystal of the crown, which is covered with light like the crest of a sun, a glow that spreads to the rest of Fernard's body, a man hitherto bent, but now erect and clad in a power that fills the throne room with light and color. The soldiers, Raudo, the princess, Xar and the peasants all instinctively kneel, their bodies and minds surrendering to the king's magnificence. "Let him rule" say their hearts dominated by the heat emanating from the mark of Fernard IV.

"Out of my kingdom, monster! You have no business here!"

But the dragon jumps and lands on the stairs leading up to the throne, smashing the steps and sending the soldiers flying like rag dolls. Only Raudo manages to flip in mid-air and land on his feet. The dragon leans over Fernard IV and opens its mouth revealing a throat from which a spiral of fangs descends, and from which a thunderous roar rises.

The fierce breath sends Fernard IV backwards and forces him to sit on his throne, his ears bleed, his crystal crown bursts into pieces, and the mark that a few moments ago shone like a star, is extinguished like a candle fire.

The dragon closes its snout and shows a bent smile. It raises its right arm, the tip of which bears five curved claws, and waves it... Fernard IV was already presumed dead, but the dragon never touched him.

The princess screams, trapped in the beast's hand. A guttural cackle seeps from between the dragon's lips.

"I will fulfill your wish, king of the mud. I will leave, but I will take your daughter, and I will fornicate her until I am tired.... If she survives that, she'll bear my children.... And if she survives that too, I will devour her"

After that morbid sentence, the dragon spreads its wings and flies away through the same hole through which it entered.

Half of the kingdom's soldiers deserted when they heard what had happened, fearful that they would be sent in search of the dragon. The captain of the guard also abandoned his duties and disappeared. Xar offered his condolences to the king, giving the princess for dead, but seeing how the monarch did not even respond, and recognizing in Fernard the countenance of a weak and defeated man, Xar did not wait for any permission and withdrew with the flame of a future revolution burning in his eyes. 

An hour later the faithful soldiers had already removed the debris from the throne room, but the king remained lying in his chair like a wreck, still deaf, mute and with a lost look, as if he still saw the dragon's jaws open in front of his face. It was at that precise moment that Raudo approached him, planted his knee, and swore to him that he would bring back the princess.

The knight left the castle and walked through the village. He asked the villagers where the dragon flew off to. Moving south, Raudo was lost among the ferns. Witnesses say that Raudo's silhouette gave off a silvery sparkle before disappearing.

Fernard IV came out of his spasm at night, and regained his hearing two days later, which was when he learned the reason for Raudo's farewell. Tears bathed the monarch's face, because until then he believed that his friend had decided to abandon him as well... And although he had been tormented by loneliness during the previous days, Fernard IV thought that Raudo's decision to desert was natural and wise for any sane man with a chance of a better life. 

At the fourth dawn, when everyone thought both Raudo and Foralena were dead, the knight appeared among the ferns. As the news spread, everyone rushed to meet him at the edge of the swamp, including Fernard IV, who made his way without waiting for his bodyguards.

His silver armor was crumbling as he walked, turned to dust; Half of his face throbbed with vivid burns; He dragged the debris from his right arm, turned mostly to strips of charred strips. And yet, despite the damage, her remaining arm held firm, carrying cradled an unconscious Foralena, her dress soiled and somewhat torn, but unharmed, and the mark of the princess still illuminating her forehead.

The maidens appear and pick up the princess. At the conclusion of their purpose, Raudo allows himself to fall seated on the ground. The king approaches and envelops him in a tight embrace, in which Raudo grunts from his wounds, but does not complain. The king breaks away, and with eyes bathed in tears and admiration asks:

"Did you kill the dragon?"

I expected an affirmative answer, but Raudo shakes his head.

"Then how did you...?"

"I showed him what he was looking for... Courage"