The Dragon Realms Saga

Wiccer slapped the mosquito buzzing on his neck. He couldn’t count the many things he grew to despise about the swamps on all his fingers and toes. Mosquitoes, the humid nights, alligators, mud, the rain, the list could go on and on. He was happy to know his army reached the end of the Blood Bog. However, they needed to figure out what to make of the watch tower in the near distance.

“The scouts said that they saw no one inside of it. Perhaps it is an abandoned structure?” said Dallin. He ripped into a piece of alligator jerky. A parting gift from the orcs.

“All the more reason to secure it. If the Estinians had possession of a sturdy watchtower, they could cut off our supply train to Ghostoc Port.” Wiccer rubbed his chin as he studied his map that spread across the wet ground. “We should send in the sappers, to make sure all is in order up there.”

Both kings nodded.

“If I may, general.” Legion stepped forth from the shadows. He and Malady stayed close to Wiccer, but never tried to interfere with his choices or leadership.

Wiccer nodded. “What do you have to say, sergeant?”

Legion turned to the direction of the tower. “You sent Elucard ahead to secure points such as this. If he did pass by here, he would have boobytrapped the tower.”

“In other words”—Malady leaned on Legion’s shoulder—“you’d be sending your sappers on a suicide mission.”

Dallin raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Varisian sappers are trained to disarm traps of any nature.”

“Are you ready to take that chance, Dallin?” Malady gave him a sly grin.

“I am a king, I shall be addressed as one.” Dallin rose to his feet and puffed out his chest.

Malady slid into Dallin’s face and flashed his teeth. “I have no king.”

“Enough!” shouted Wiccer. “Honestly, we already have an enemy, we don’t need to fight amongst ourselves.”

Dallin adjusted his tunic and cape. “Yes, you are right, General.”

Malady continued to smile and sank back into the shadows behind his blade brother.

Wiccer shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Legion, do you suggest we send in you two to inspect the tower?”

“If Elucard had the place trapped, we can disarm them,” Legion confirmed.

Wiccer looked at the two kings who nodded and then back to the two former Black Rabbits. “Very well, but be careful. You two are far too valuable to die to something as silly as a boobytrap.”

***

Legion examined the blast marks on the warped door hinges of the tower entrance.

“Dragon powder?” Malady asked.

Legion wiped the soot with his finger and smelt the strong, pungent odor. He wrinkled his nose. “It looks like it.”

“Your whelp has a demolition expert in his crew.”

Legion felt the door frame for wires or triggers. He muttered a hrm after finding none and walked in. “Door’s clean.”

Malady followed Legion inside and together they began to ascend the stairs.

“I never thought I’d be working alongside you again, brother,” said Malady after a short while. Legion gave him a short glance before Malady spoke up once more. “You could have been my High Blade when I commanded the Black Rabbits.”

Legion halted and then crouched down to inspect a loose step. He took out a thin dagger and pried the step upwards to find a spring and three white pellets. “Elisa’s work. Be on your guard, there may be more.”

“We would have brought the Rabbits to their former glory, you and I,” said Malady, not skipping a beat after Legion’s warning.

Legion remained silent as they continued up the winding staircase.

“But you knew something, didn’t you?”

Legion glanced back to Malady again. “Neither of us could find happiness with a blade in our hand.”

It was Malady’s turn to be silent. Together they continued their climb.

“I was the son of Ryjin, founder of the Black Rabbits. I was born and bred to kill. Happiness was never meant to be.”

“And now you lead the clan and yet, you still feel empty inside,” said Legion.

Malady hid his scowl. “It means nothing. I would prefer the trade of blood and death over—”

“Over something honest like a farmer or a fisherman?”

Malady paused. “What makes a fisherman more honest than that of an assassin?”

Legion bowed his head. “Do you really need to ask yourself such a thing, my brother?”

“And what about you?” Malady scoffed. “So high and mighty. Did the great Legion ever find his happiness?”

Legion raised his hands to examine the trap door above them. He pushed it open ever so slightly, taking note of a sliver of light glinting off an extremely thin wire.

Using a dagger, he cut the wire and made his way to the tower turret. “I have done many things to forgo my happiness, but even with my sins, I still found it.”

“How? You of all people, I need to know how you found your peace,” urged Malady.

Legion looked back to Malady and simply said, “Through my son, Elucard.”

Malady leaned on the tower ledge and watched as the sun drifted into the horizon. Hues of red and gold streaked across the sky. Malady sighed and wiped away his smile. “Your son, huh?”

Legion patted his blade brother’s shoulder. “Everyone deserves peace, Malady. Even an old soldier like you.”

Malady chuckled. “Then maybe I’ll have it one day.”