Dragonslayer, Inc.

Chapter Chapter XXX- Summit



In case you haven’t heard the axiom, ‘go to Life’s End’ is not a compliment. It’s not telling someone to take a vacation.

It’s telling someone to go to some place where you’ll never see them again and where they’ll most likely die. Centuries ago, it was one of the worst insults you could hurl at someone. If everyone had seen what we saw, it would still be that way.

A lot of young kids don’t believe Life’s End is a real place. When their teachers tell them otherwise, they are struck with a mix of fear and disbelief. There is no place quite like it. Earlier, I compared the northern peninsula of this continent to cancer. If the majority of it is treatable, stage one or stage two cancer, Life’s End is stage four.

It is the kind of place that goes beyond simply being dead. It is where you go when you want your life energy ripped out, when you want to be reduced to a worthless husk. You may ask what kind of person would want such a fate, to which I would respond, “Who but those who desire such a fate would go to Life’s End?”

The answer: us.

Even when the climate was more considerate, this was the most disturbing place in the world. The coast is stygian. The rock formations appear to have been express-delivered from the underworld. There are transparent ridges sticking just out of the water that have sunk hundreds of ships. Many of these ships have been decayed out of existence, but some are still there. It’s a graveyard.

The waves are black, and the shores they crash onto are reddish-gray. There are no seashells, but there are these cold rocks that wash up, and they’re not just cold because it has never been warm here. There are rocks from Life’s End back in the museum Machen and I went to in Andes. We got to touch them. The room was seventy degrees. The rocks were negative twenty.

Instead of bushes, there are bunches of spear-shaped rocks bound together. If Miyok Forest is the essence of life, this place is the essence of death. It used to be a common spot for mass suicide. There are these flat-topped outcroppings that stick out ten, twenty feet into the sea. People would throw themselves off these outcroppings. When they landed in the water fifty feet below, they would perish. About two-thirds of the deaths came from those who went to Life’s End specifically to end their life, but the other third came from those who lost the will to live while here- many of them were sailors whose ships crashed, but there were also explorers and merchants.

I couldn’t understand this until I set my eyes upon this cursed land. Just being here made living seem pointless. Thousands of years ago, it was commonly believed that it was the product of the entire world’s darkness being swept into one spot. There are more than a few creation myths that follow the same general path: at the beginning of time, there were two halves of the world. One half was covered in light. The other half was covered in darkness. Though the people and animals on the light half prospered, those on the dark half suffered. When they had suffered enough, they declared war on the light half, and many great battles were fought, and many lives were lost. All seemed bleak until a supreme deity- the identity changes depending on the myth- descended from heaven and vanquished darkness from the land. Peace and prosperity were had, but the darkness couldn’t be completely obliterated, so it was contained, infused into what is now Life’s End.

The land certainly feels like it’s been this way since the dawn of time. Hundreds of years ago, it was much warmer and much wetter here, but other than that, it hasn’t changed. If there’s one thing I understand about this place that most don’t, it’s how ancient it is. It’s hard to put into words why this matters. It wouldn’t seem to, not to the casual eye reading about Life’s End, not even to the hardcore researcher studying it, not when there are so many other aspects to discuss. The rock is old, and the sand is old, but it’s more than that. It’s like the entire atmosphere has been kept in a time capsule for billions of years.

Entering feels like you’re breaking a seal. The wind feels old. The sky feels old. The clouds seem old. I’d say the aurora seems old, but there isn’t an aurora. The aurora vanishes once you enter Life’s End and doesn’t return until you leave. During the trip, this reminded me of a cruel king closing the gates of their castle, but now it seems more akin to a dog refusing to approach a lake of acid.

Objectively, death was preferable to marching through this oblivion, but we didn’t wish to stop living. It was a three-day trip, and those days went on forever. In Life’s End, you can’t see the sun, so it was nearly impossible to know how much time was passing, or if time was even passing at all. There was a day and a night however. They were both grim and despondent, but in the day the horizon glowed a hideous green, while at night it glowed a dimmer red.

We had encountered challenges before. That is no surprise. I have detailed most of these challenges for your reading pleasure, and I believe I have done a good job explaining how and why they caused us such great pain. To not have been challenged time and time again in a journey as long as ours would have required either miraculous luck or a very stringent definition of the word ‘challenge’.

However, never before had there been a place where simply existing was an arduous feat. We didn’t have to climb any high mountains. We didn’t have to face off with any armies, human or animal. We didn’t have to outrun a firecane. We had to follow a marked path. That was it, and yet, under these conditions, that was a harsher obstacle than anything we had ever done in our lives. I thought Curam was going to be this hideous mountain that would haunt my dreams if I happened to make it back alive. That didn’t happen. When I think of Curam, I don’t think of it with love, but I don’t think of it with fear either. I think of it with reverence.

Life’s End, on the hand, filled that role nicely. In the first year after I returned from my journey, I had no less than ten nightmares about this place. That ranked second on my nightmare counter. First place, with thirty nightmares in the first year, goes to a tragic event that would happen later.

By the time we had made our triumphant return to Curam, I had lost another two fingers. It was now hard to physically grasp an object with either hand. I had also lost multiple toes, and so had Steph. Machen nearly lost his entire right hand. Frostbite is not friendly. We had forgotten what it felt like to be warm. In a way, this was a blessing. The brisk mountain slopes felt like a tropical day in Natura.

We had declined to sleep much in Life’s End. For one, we wanted our descent into frigid vileness to be over as quickly as possible. For another, there was no cover. There were no caves or crevasses, and no matter what rock formation we ducked behind, the winds would find a way to cut into our skin. This meant that we spent much of our first few days back on the mountain catching up on our sleep. We wanted to be well-rested for the looming battle.

As we approached the top of the mountain, I cracked my knuckles, and we stopped, all three of us, all at once. Icithan had drawn closer into view. It was facing away from us. We had a quarter-mile to go. The north side of Curam is not an easy climb, but it’s a relief after you’ve been through Life’s End. We weren’t short on breath, or at least we wouldn’t have been if not for the thin air and the rampant beating of our hearts.

It was nearly dawn. The eastern horizon glinted with light.

“What a day to kill a dragon,” I said.

“The sky’s clear,” Steph said. “The winds are calm. The air’s cold, but once we get to fighting, we won’t feel the chill. How’s everyone feeling?”

“All things considered, pretty great. Nervous and half-dead, but pretty great. It’s hard to breathe though. I could use an oxygen mask.”

“And where are we supposed to get one of those?”

“Ironwall would know.”

“Where would he get oxygen masks? That’s not possible.”

“He’d come up with something.”

“We can come up with something,” said Machen. “Yes, we had to be extremely lucky to get to this point. I accept that. Yes, we had a lot of help from other Slayers, especially Ironwall. I accept that. But we’re here. That isn’t nothing.” His fists clenched. “I’m feeling fine, since you asked. Ready to fight Icithan at any rate.”

The sun rose, its rays traipsing over the mountainous lands that we had climbed through, lands that looked so very small from so very high up. Spreading my arms, I rolled my head back so that it could share in the warm light that was falling upon the back of my neck. It sunk in what we had done. For one magical moment, Icithan didn’t matter. We had completed a historic journey.

Pointing into the distance, I said, “Can you see that? It’s the plateau we were on when that blizzard came. It looks like a toy.”

“And there’s that cliff we fell off.”

“You can see that?”

“Barely. It’s a speck.”

“Forget that,” said Steph. “Look at the horizon. You can see the northern tip of Rolar Desert. It’s like our trip’s laid out before us.”

“Being up this high… it should make me feel insignificant,” said Machen. “This crazy, winding journey we’ve taken seems so simple, so obvious, so easy. But I don’t feel insignificant. Why is that?”

“I don’t know about you, but… when I was a kid, I would flip through travel magazines. It was exciting- as exciting as anything gets in Natura- but it depressed me. I hadn’t been to any of those places. I felt so worthless. Compare that to this. You can see for hundreds of miles in every direction. I can see at least as many places as were in those travel magazines, but this time, most of them are places I’ve been to. You have no idea how liberating that is for me.”

Deka set, turning from silver to ice-blue as it sank below the horizon. The stars had hidden themselves away. The night was dead.

Steph said, “You tell a good story, Coran. Maybe you could be our new Ironwall.”

“There’s only one Ironwall.”

“Whatever. If I die, type me up a good obit. Call me ‘brave’ or ‘courageous’ or something like that. It’s not like anyone would read it, but I don’t want to disappear.”

“You’re not dying,” said Machen. “None of us are.”

“How are you still so upbeat?” she asked. “I used to think it was a product of your arrogance, but now… I don’t know. How are you so creepily optimistic?”

“I’m not. It’s just… I’ve been depressed, as you have. As you know, it’s not fun. You have to deal with it, but you don’t know how. Nothing’s easy. I had my whole identity ripped to shreds. I’ve been piecing together a new one, but it’s fragile. If there’s too much pressure, it’ll crack. If the pressure doesn’t stop, it’ll collapse, and I’ll be back to square one. I have to fight the pressure. I have to stop it from crushing me, so I have to be as strong as I can.”

“What’ll you do after this is over?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t live full-throttle once you get home. It won’t work. You’ll go crazy.”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s not important right now. We’ve come this far. Let’s finish the job. Let’s kill Icithan.”

“There’s something on your mind, something you’re not telling us.”

“There’s nothing.”

“There’s something on your mind, Machen.”

“Fine. There is something on my mind. You got me.”

“No matter what happens, we’ll be with you. We’ll help you. We understand you, or at least I hope we do by this point.”

“It’s nothing like that.” He let his eyes wander. “I have a proposal.”

“What? Tell us.”

“Our headquarters are destroyed and most of our leading members are dead. It’ll take a lot of time and money to get Dragonslayer, Inc. humming again.”

“Yeah. So what?”

“What if we… don’t put in that time and money?”

“What are you saying?”

“Dragonslayer, Inc. is practically dead. I say we remove the ‘practically’.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’ve been thinking about what Arge said…”

“That’s never a good sign,” she snapped. “He’s a demented blowhard narcissist, or didn’t you know?”

“Relax. I live in the same reality as you.”

“Starting to question that.”

“He’s crazy, but he was kinda right. Why do we make so much money off saving people from dragons? The original Slayers were commercial because they had to be. They didn’t envision Coran becoming one of the richest people in the world from working a few missions. That’s not what they had in mind. What I’m saying is we have a chance to start over. It’s the only chance we’ll get. Let’s take it. Dragonslayer, Inc. will be no more. What personnel we have left will be integrated into a new governmental department, which we will create. With Arge gone, the government’s bound to be in chaos. As the people who slayed Icithan, I think we can move in and use our influence to make this happen. Members of this new department will live well, but they won’t live like kings. I’ve been thinking this out for a while. We have a lot of money. We don’t need any more. This is our one chance to do this, our one window of opportunity. Let’s take it. At least consider it.”

“I’m in.”

“What? But you…”

“I’m a flexible person. You give me an idea that makes sense? I’ll go for it. And you are making sense. I thought it through, and it’s a good idea. It’s as simple as that. What say you, Coran?”

“End the Dragonslayers? That’s radical. I don’t know what to say.” Bewilderment shook my bones. Machen had taken me completely by surprise. I had never thought of the possibility that Dragonslayer, Inc. could cease to exist. The organization had been around for over three centuries. It was one of the oldest institutions in the world. I had always thought that no matter what happened, it would always exist, no matter how hated it became, even if it was forced to go into exile.

When Arge sought to destroy it, I felt attacked. I didn’t think he’d succeed, but I was terrified. Dragonslayer, Inc. had been a big part of my identity ever since I was old enough to have an identity. I never liked my life much growing up, but when I was watching the Slayers, I felt alive. I felt strong. I felt confident. I felt like the person I wanted to be. It gave me so much. In return I was loyal, but even then I was receiving a gift. Everyone needs something to be loyal to, and I found mine in Dragonslayer, Inc. I defended the organization whenever I got the chance. It got tiring, but it always felt worthwhile.

My love for Dragonslayer, Inc. had only grown since I left home. When I was traveling on foot to Andes, being a Slayer was the future that kept me going. When I actually joined the Slayers, the organization represented the new life I had been handed. It was all I had wanted. I was eternally grateful. Dragonslayer, Inc. and I were inexorably linked. If it somehow was destroyed, I didn’t know what I’d make of myself. I certainly never thought I’d want to end it. The idea was so inconceivable, so blasphemous, so profoundly against the very foundations of who I was.

And yet I couldn’t dismiss it. I wasn’t that young anymore. Arge had a lot of horrible ideas, but this wasn’t one of them. My quest had changed me. I couldn’t back into my old, familiar ideological corner. The opinions I used to have seemed so incomplete. I had to look at the situation with new eyes.

There will always be malevolent creatures in this world, and for the rest of my lifetime at least, there will always be malevolent dragons. Society needs those who can fight them. It’s essential, and those fighters should be paid well. But it is wrong for them to make outrageous sums of money because they’re the only ones who can do the job right. They should be heroes, not mercenaries. This is especially essential when so much destruction has been caused and there is so much rebuilding to be done. There shouldn’t be Slayers getting paid millions of dollars to protect the people when a good many of those people are homeless thanks to the kind of attack they should have been protected from. It’s immoral, and it’s a waste of money.

I thought over this. I tried to come up with a solid defense. When that failed, I tried to come up with one great reason why we shouldn’t abolish the Dragonslayers. I came up with a few okay reasons. Months earlier, they would have convinced me, but now they weren’t enough. Taking a deep breath, I contemplated what I was about to do. My head spun. It was like I was going mad, but my resolve never wavered.

Slapping my sides and raising my chin, I said, “I changed my mind. Let’s end the Dragonslayers.” My mouth quivered as the words fell out.

“That makes three,” said Machen.

“It’s unanimous.”

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

“You proposed it.”

“I know.”

“Well,” said Steph, “we haven’t done anything yet. Our decision doesn’t matter if we don’t make it back alive.”

“Then let’s kill Icithan,” Machen responded. “We’ve waited long enough.”

Staring into the sky, I chuckled and asked, “What happened to us? We used to be crazy, irreverent, and scared to death.”

“We still are,” he said.

“But we grew up. I’m glad.”

“Ironwall would be proud.”

“I hope so.”

“Let’s take one last deep breath. Then let’s make history.”

“Our lives are gonna change forever,” said Steph. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. …Then again, maybe I am. We’ve already changed so much.”

“Is everyone ready to fight?” I asked.

“I am,” said Steph.

“I am,” said Machen.

“Same here,” I confirmed. “When the sun sets, it’s gonna set on a different world, a better world. I know it.”

We took a deep breath.


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