Gatekeepers Book 2: Galeforce

The early afternoon sun shone out across the cloud tops high above the ground. Hidden within the clouds, invisible from the surface below, floated a multitude of rocky islands drifting in the wind currents. A massive stone castle sat upon one of the largest of said islands. Large openings of various sizes peppered the walls of the castle while stained glass windows sparkled here and there in the sunlight. Within the castle walls, a creature of great stature strode down a certain hallway. Glittering crimson scales edged in gold covered the creature from head to toe while yellow underbelly scales grew all the way down to the tip of its tail. The dragon’s wings fluttered in a slight breeze as it walked by an open window. The dragon’s name was Drax, the son of the current Dragon King.

A small sigh escaped Drax’s mouth as he shook his head. My head is killing me; I should not have remained there for as long as I had. A mild headache pounded on the inside of his skull. The headache had developed after listening to the uproar at the coliseum most of the day; Drax had reached his limit before the end of the day’s matches and excused himself from the top box occupied by other prominent members of dragon society. His father, Theravor Stormfang, stopped him on his way out and asked if Drax would stop by the castle infirmary to check on their special patient. Drax had agreed to do so and was on his way to the infirmary now.

Life for Drax and the other members of the Dragon Council, as well as Theravor and other dragons, has been quite hectic for a while now. Around two months beforehand, a thief had snuck into the castle and stole a treasured artefact from the castle’s vault by some unknown means and proceeded to escape with his prize. The same night, an unconscious humanoid creature fell out of the sky and ended up interfering with the thief’s capture. The aforementioned humanoid was a human half-breed named Draycos, whose appearance was identical to an average human except for his eyes; the sclera were black instead of white, and his irises were a bright yellow. Combine that with his spiky black hair, and he could show a very intimidating expression if he was inclined to do so.

Anyways, for his unintentional involvement with the thief’s escape, Theravor decided to have Draycos held in prison for the time being, more so for Draycos’ own protection from the public than anything else. Theravor then proceeded to convince the Dragon Council to host the Prisoners’ Games early this year. The Games is an event in which the prisoners compete with one another for a chance to leave prison on community service. This was all set up so Draycos could leave the prison without having Theravor and the Dragon Council suffer any backlash from the civilian dragons. Even so, Draycos still had to get a passing score on an aptitude test to even participate in the event, so he had spent a month training with some of Theravor’s right-hand dragons to prepare himself for the test and the Games itself. There was an incident or two on the way, but Draycos managed to pass the test. He had just won his first match in the games earlier in the day, and even that had ended up being quite a dramatic display for the audience. Long story short, Draycos’ magic power had awoken during the match, but he was severely injured by his opponent and was recovering in the infirmary.

A large wooden door set in the wall ahead of Drax caught his attention, drawing Drax out of his thoughts. A short line on Dragonscript carved into the wood said “Infirmary: PLEASE BE QUIET NEAR THIS DOOR!” Without knocking, Drax put one hand on the door and pushed it open. A large room filled to the brim with beds of all sizes. Sunlight filtered in through the drapes of the ceiling-high windows lining the wall. The infirmary was fairly busy; some of the more severely injured fighters in the Games had to be relocated here to have their wounds tended to. Several dragons gifted in healing magics were treating various patients, mostly elves and orcs, as they moved between the beds. One of the dragons noticed Drax entering the room and motioned the prince towards him.

“How are the injured?” Drax questioned as he strode over to the dragon’s side.

The dragon readjusted a large monocle over his left eye. “Nothing permanent, I can assure you,” he quickly answered. He lowered his voice so he wouldn’t be heard over the moans of the patients before he continued. “As usual, most of the non-dragon prisoners were beaten one-sidedly during their matches and dropped out of the Games. Some of the dragon prisoners toyed with their opponents too much, so we do have a few patients in critical condition.”

“I see,” Drax murmured, shaking his head. Quite a few dragons in this age believed that dragons are the supreme race in the world, so Drax was not too surprised to hear this. “Where’s the key patient?”

“Over there.” The other dragon directed Drax with the tip of his tail towards a corner of the infirmary hidden behind a large hanging curtain. Drax walked over to the curtain and pushed it aside as he stepped into the enclosed corner.

The first thing he saw was a large bipedal dragon standing in the corner leaning against the wall with a somewhat bemused expression on its face. The dark grey-scaled dragon was Vertex, advisor of the Dragon King. Drax followed Vertex’s gaze and saw Draycos sitting up in his bed, muttering something under his breath as he read a book resting in his lap. Draycos didn’t even look up as the curtains swished back into place behind Drax; he hadn’t noticed the sudden entrance of the new dragon.

A small smile curled the corner of Drax’s lips, but it quickly disappeared as he held a fist before his mount and loudly cleared his throat. Startled, Draycos flinched and looked up from the book, noticing Drax as he did. The two stared at one another for a brief moment before Draycos spoke.

“Umm. . . what was your name again?” Draycos questioned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry, it’s nothing personal. I’m terrible with names and faces.”

Vertex made an unusual sound as he tried and failed to cover up a laugh by coughing into his fist. Drax, on the other hand, had a less-than-pleased expression on his face as his tail twitched back and forth. “Drax,” he growled. “You would be wise to commit the names and faces of the dragons you come across to memory from now on; we value common courtesy.”

“Right, sorry,” Draycos apologized. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Drax sighed as he pulled up a nearby chair and sat down in its large wooden frame. “I am here to speak of several topics, but first of all, how are you feeling? Are those wounds of yours bothering you at all?” Draycos had suffered some serious injuries from his first match; the most notable being a sizable cavity in his lower back, gouged out of his flesh by a morning star.

A sly grin crossed Draycos’ lips as he stood up in the bed and turned around to show Drax his back. “Good as new, thanks to Damrabe,” he answered, tugging on the bandages wrapped around his body. “Damrabe says I should take it easy for the evening, though.”

“Damrabe is certainly something else,” Vertex chimed in, shaking his head in wonderment. “Anyone else would have required at least several hours to facilitate the regeneration of all the missing flesh, but he treated it in a few moments.”

Drax nodded at Vertex’s words. “We certainly are blessed to have him among us.”

“If only he could work things out with Poesiden,” Draycos sighed. Drax and Vertex exchanged glances at the mention of the grandfather’s and grandson’s complicated relationship. Drax cleared his throat once more before he began talking once more. “I imagine that you’re beginning to learn some of the basics of magic now?”

“Yup.” Draycos plopped back down onto the mattress and held up the book from earlier. “Vertex brought me some tomes about magic to read. They’re easy to read, so I’m not having much trouble reading them.”

“You know, you’re something else yourself,” Vertex muttered under his breath. “Not anyone can be reading Dragonscript as fluently as you are just after two months of learning it.”

Draycos shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not like I had anything else to do that first month. Besides, I’ve still been asking for your help with some of it today.”

“Well, it is a good thing that you have already begun to learn about magic,” Drax commented. “You will need it in the fights ahead.”

“Because most of my opponents from this point on will be dragons, right?” Draycos asked.

“Indeed,” Drax confirmed, nodding his head. “In light of that topic, there’s one more thing I need to speak to you about. My father, King Theravor, is making arrangements for your next match to be held as the final match in the second round. You need as much time as we can provide to achieve a decent understanding of your magical abilities.”

“Is that something he should be doing?” Draycos inquired, unease showing in his face. “Wouldn’t that make it look like he’s playing favorites with the prisoners?”

“That isn’t something you need to concern yourself with,” Vertex cut in. His eyes gave off a chilly light as he looked into Draycos’ eyes. “You should be more concerned with yourself at this time. Your priority should be learning how to control your magic.”

“Alright, I get it,” Draycos grumbled. He cracked open the book and found where he had left off.

“If that is all, then I’ll take my leave now,” Drax announced, standing up from the chair. He looked over at Vertex. “I believe you’ve already surmised this, but Theravor has assigned the task of Draycos’ practical training training to you. Make sure the boy learns enough in the next few days to hold his own against his future opponents.”

Vertex nodded wordlessly, and Drax left the pair as he walked out from behind the curtain. He was surprised to see Damrabe leaning against the wall just outside, eyes closed. Damrabe’s eyes flicked open upon hearing the curtain moving. His gaze met with Drax’s as the two exchanged silent nods.

“I take it that you overheard us?” Drax questioned. “What are you doing here, anyways?”

Damrabe’s lips curled as he uttered a short snort. “Is it that unusual to find me in the infirmary, of all places?” he growled. “The last match of today’s fights just ended, and I brought the last batch of injured prisoners with me. And since I’m here, I thought I should remove Draycos’ bandages; they’re just for show at this point.”

“Right. . . I apologize for my rudeness.” Drax’s gaze drifted over to the infirmary doors, where two guards had taken position since he entered the room. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Get some rest tonight; your powers will probably be in high demand tomorrow.” With that, Drax walked to the doors, exchanging nods with the guards before exiting the room, leaving Damrabe by himself outside the curtains.