Gatekeepers Book 3: Redemption

Galán, the human-elvish half-breed that led the group known as the Gatekeepers, watched in horror as his current enemy dangled Galán’s newfound ally over his open maw. Galán’s ally, another half-breed of human and some unknown race’s descent, went by the name of Draycos. Draycos was a new arrival in Galán’s world, and had gotten himself involved in a rather sticky predicament that included the theft of dragonkind’s most prized and revered artefact, the Orb of the First King. Despite his rather evil-looking appearance, Draycos had managed to convince those in power that he was innocent; he even agreed to assist the Dragon King and his council in finding the stolen relic.

To make a long story short, Draycos fought his way to this underground city to help Galán track down a possible lead to the Orb of the First King. Unfortunately, that had ended up being a trap to lure Draycos to the location. Their current enemy, an ancient dragon who had been sealed away for over a thousand years, required some high-quality blood to free himself, and Draycos’s blood fit the bill. By using his powers to manipulate others to do his bidding, the dragon, Vinkex, had finally gotten his hands on a battered and beaten Draycos after displaying an overwhelming difference in power and skill.

What can I do right now? Galán eyes frantically darted back and forth between Draycos and the body of their former enemy, Guerrino. Guerrino, a human-sized dragonoid mercenary from the Mercenary Union, as well as his partner, Madniga, an assassin from the Shadow Strikers, were initially after Draycos’s head on a joint contract. But after seeing the threat posed by Vinkex’s awakening, the two had called a truce with Galán and Draycos. However, the two were struck down almost immediately by Vinkex’s trickery, and Galán had his hands full trying to keep Guerrino alive.

“Time to eat,” Vinkex growled, ignoring Galán's desperation. Releasing Draycos's ankle, Vinkex dropped Draycos right into his mouth. He swallowed Draycos whole with a loud gulp.

“Draycos!!” Galán screamed. He glanced down at the wound in Guerrino’s orange torso. At least it looks like the bleeding has stopped. Galán rose to his feet and stared coldly at Vinkex, who had his back to him. Now I can try to do something to improve the situation. Galán clapped his hands together, and his gold and silver magic auras formed around his hands. They mixed together, resulting in a silvery-bronze aura that shrunk until it disappeared inside Galán’s palms. Rubbing his palms together, Galán separated his hands and held his right hand above his head. If I can land a solid hit on him with this, even he would be stunned for a few seconds. I can use that time to make him regurgitate Draycos.

“Space-Time Divider.” With that softly spoken command, Galán slung his arm down as if he’d just thrown a baseball. A small, flat plane of silvery-bronze light was flung out of his hand. The speed it flew through the air at was incredibly slow; it took it a good second just to travel a few feet. It slowly drew close to the unsuspecting dragon, who was gazing at his hands held before him with a blank expression.

Come on, let it hit!

But just as those words crossed Galán’s mind, a smirk crossed Vinkex’s face. He curled his hands into tight fists as steam began rising from between his scales.

“That didn’t take long to kick in,” he commented to himself. “It’s probably because the brat was already bleeding profusely, but his blood is already starting to circulate throughout my body.” Vinkex grunted, and a massive blast a steam erupted out from underneath his scales. The blast was so strong it knocked Galán’s spell out of the air and shattered it. A shadowy, dark-blue aura appeared around Vinkex’s body as his black-blue scales gained a bright, glossy sheen. An extra set of horns grew out of the already massive rack sprouting from his head.

Vinkex began laughing loudly, absolutely giddy with the feeling of power surging through his veins. “Now this is more like it! I can feel the aftereffects of breaking that seal finally fading away! This is what it’s like to be alive again after a thousand years!” His gaze fell upon a stalagmite jutting from the ground about a dozen yards away. Narrowing his eyes, he waved his hand through the air in the direction of the stalagmite. The stalagmite exploded an instant later, shattering to dust.

Galán watched this happen in shock. This is unreal! I’ve never seen dragons display such a level of strength before! Is what Vinkex said about dragons being weak in this era true?

High above in the clouds, in a large chamber lit by the moonlight falling through the stained glass windows in the wall, the Dragon King and his council stared at the cracked heart-shaped projection tool resting in Theravor’s hand. They stood there in a tight knot as an uncomfortable silence hung in the air. No one bothered to speak; they were afraid of acknowledging what just occurred. The events they had witnessed hadn’t even sunk it for some of them yet.

The first to show any reaction was Zero, the small blue and white dragon that sat at the head of the Vizard royal family. He took a half step back, stumbled, and fell on his butt, still staring at the projection item. “I don’t believe it,” he murmured, clutching his head with both hands. A cold sweat broke out over his slightly trembling body. “Draycos...is gone? Just like that?”

Vinzgar, the head of the Killwing family, sighed and fell into the closest empty seat. “Well, that’s a bother,” he growled, shaking his dark grey head in mute disappointment. His blood-red eyes were filled with regret. “Looks like we shouldn’t have left so much up to the brat. He simply wasn’t strong enough for the role we gave him.”

Zero’s tail twitched at these words. He lifted his head and glared at Vinzgar. Getting up from where he sat on the floor, Zero strode over to Vinzgar. He didn’t hesitate as he punched the living daylights out of the unsuspecting dragon. Stunned, Vinzgar fell to the floor amid the gasps of shock from several Council members.

“Don’t talk so coldly about Draycos!” Zero snapped, pointing a talon at Vinzgar. “We were the ones who first persecuted him and then left it in his own hands to find the Orb! Take some responsibility and show some remorse!”

Growling, Vinzgar got to his feet and spat out a mouthful of blood before walking up to Zero, who was only around half his size. He grabbed Zero by the neck and lifted him up to eye level, a furious expression on his face. The tools hanging around Zero’s waist tinkled against each other slightly. "Respect your elders, brat!” Vinzgar roared. He tightened his grip around Zero’s neck. “You need to keep your emotions in check and calm down! Don’t make a fool of yourself by acting recklessly!”

“Look who’s talking!” Zero choked out. He wrapped his tail around Vinzgar’s neck, cutting off the dark dragon’s windpipes. The two of them remain in those positions for a few moments. Something gold flashed through the air, and two metallic clangs rang out. Both dragons suddenly found themselves on the ground, a large bump already rising on their heads. Poseidon, the aged prison warden in charge of Skyhaven Prison, stood over the two, holding his triple-tipped prison guard lance in one hand as he looked down at the two with an irritated expression on his face.

“Both of you need to take a moment to cool off!” he hissed as Zero and Vinzgar slowly sat up, rubbing their heads. “This kind of display is unacceptable for members of the Dragon Council! Behave yourselves!”

“Father, are you alright?” Drax asked Theravor, ignoring the others’ bickering. There was a worried expression in his eyes as he gazed at his father.

Theravor shook his head. “I’ll be fine; I’ll just need a moment later to sort through what just happened.” He turned to look at one of the few female dragons in the room; the head of the Managuard family, Boreta. “Losing Draycos would be a real setback; I don’t think things would look good for us if the public found out we got a young man involved in a behind-the-scenes investigation and ended up getting killed for it. It could quite easily cause a revolt; something I’m sure that Vinkex is aiming for. Is it possible for us to rescue Draycos?”

Boreta stared off into space as she lost herself in thought, rubbing her chin with her slender, lavender fingers. Her butterfly-like wings fluttered softly, spreading glittering dust with each beat. She blinked as she focused her attention back on Theravor. “Given what we heard Vinkex say, it’s clear that he would need a constant supply of high-quality blood to stave off the effects of breaking his seal. Therefore, it’s more than likely that he needs to keep Draycos alive. I’d wager that he’s keeping Draycos in a suspended state of animation somewhere inside his body.”

“So if we can find out where he is, then we can safely extract him from the body?” Drax surmised.

Boreta nodded. “But I doubt Vinkex will just stand there and do nothing as we go about locating Draycos. This is going to be very difficult if we don’t work together.”

Just then, there was a loud knocking on the door. “Excuse me, but I have a report I have to give the Dragon King immediately,” a voice said on the other side of the door.

“Come in,” Theravor called. A guard stationed next to the door opened it, and another dragon walked into the room, wearing the armor of the guards placed at the prison. It was the same guard Poseidon had sent home early the first day Draycos spent in the prison.

“What are you doing here?” Poseidon question, bewildered. “I thought you were scheduled to have the day shift today at the prison’s entrance.”

The guard shook his head frantically. “I was, but...nevermind that! I have some rather urgent news I need to tell you all!”

“Out with it, then,” Theravor growled. “What’s going on?”

The guard bowed deeply to Theravor. His body trembled slightly as he opened his mouth again. “I-I don’t know how else to say this, but...the Skyhaven Prison is under attack by an army of rogue dragons!”

“What was that?” Theravor snapped amid several cries of shock. Rogue dragons were groups of dragons that refused to acknowledge the power of the Dragon King and Council, living independently of those that lived under their rule. They generally kept to themselves on their homes placed on the outlying floating islands and lived in tribes. Damrabe, on of Theravor's right-hand men, originally hailed from one of those tribes.

Poseidon locked his eyes on the guard, a stiff expression sitting on his face. “Explain yourself,” he ordered.

“I was on my shift like I was supposed to, when a horde of rogue dragons suddenly fell upon me and the other guards at the entrance. We were fighting them off for a few minutes when another guard who’d been stationed inside the prison arrived, all battered and bruised. He told us that another, much larger group of rogue dragons assaulted the open cavern on the other side a few minutes prior. He ran to send the news when he realized they were outmatched. Gaoth, the Vice-Warden, ordered me to bring the news here while he and the other guards kept the rouges contained as much as possible.”

“Are they trying to attempt a prison break?!” Boreta exclaimed.

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” Theravor remarked. He rubbed his chin as he thought hard. “Think about it; Vinkex did tell Draycos that Balara was his direct descendant.”

“So is he trying to get Balara out of the prison?”

“Looks that way. And the timing of this prison break is too good; this must have something to do with Vinkex’s plan to take the throne. I’m sure he’s trying to get more followers for his cause; there’s plenty of prisoners who want to see me taken down.”

Balara sighed as he slammed his foot down on the head of an unconscious prison guard laying on the ground. The dragon’s body was silvery-grey, with electric yellow underbelly scales and wing skin. The blue eyes were rolled into the back of the head as the jaw hung open, the tongue slipping out onto the dusty ground. It was the Vice-Warden of Skyhaven Prison, Gaoth. None of the other guardsmen were standing. Their unconscious bodies were scattered over the ground throughout the prison cavern. All of their weapons had been destroyed and laid in pieces next to the guards. A scent of blood hung in the air, coming from the various wounds inflicted on the guards.

“Come now, is that really the best the Vice-Warden can do?” Balara questioned, pressing Gaoth’s head deeper into the ground. He rubbed his wrists, where shackles had been hanging from mere minutes ago. “That wasn’t enough to let me stretch out after having my shackles removed.”

“That’s enough, Balara,” a voice commanded. “Do you enjoy dishing out pain on unconscious and beaten opponents? Show some restraint.”

Balara paused and looked over his shoulder at the speaker. A dark grey dragon hovered in the air behind him. The thick scales covering the front half of its neck were black, and the underbelly scales of the serpentine tail stretching out past its legs were also black. A large, blue jewel was set in its stomach, and a pair of large, plane-like wings stretched out from the back. White talons tipped its fingers and toes, and honey-yellow eyes stared at Balara.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Balara growled, stepping off of Gaoth as he approached the dragonoid. He narrowed his eyes as he let some of his magic appear in an aura around him, giving him an intimidating appearance. “Have you forgotten that I’m Vinkex’s direct descendant? Show me the respect befitting that of the future Dragon King’s family.”

“And have you forgotten that I’m the one leading the rogue dragons rallying with you?” the dragon reminded him. “I’m the one you came up to to ask for assistance in this foolhardy endeavor. You’d still be in chains for the next few decades if it wasn’t for me.”

Growling, Balara strode up to the dragon until their snouts were practically touching. “Don’t underestimate my strength, Río Bradachad,” he hissed. “I could’ve broken out whenever I felt like it; I was simply following Vinkex’s plan.”

Río shrugged. “Sure, if that’s what you say,” he responded nonchalantly. He glanced past Balara’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow as he noticed something. “I’d advise you to keep your guard up,” he warned.

Two spheres of what appeared to be compressed air were flying through the air, heading straight for Balara’s back. Without even turning around to look, Balara used his tail to knock down the spheres, destroying them. He glanced over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting you to still have some fight in you.”

The Vice-Warder was lying on his stomach, too injured to stand but still holding a silver, double-tipped variant of the standard prison guard lance above his head with one hand. Blood dripped from his mouth as he gasped for air, trembling from the effort of holding his spear in its position. Another pair of air spheres began forming on each tip of his spear as he compressed more air.

“I won’t let you get away with this!” Gaoth cried as he fired the pair of spheres. Balara said nothing and simply sidestepped the air bullets, letting them harmlessly fly past him as he dashed over to Gaoth. He lifted his foot high in the air and mercilessly brought his heel down on the hand holding the spear, breaking the bones instantly.

“Don’t even try it; you can’t do anything to stop us,” Balara told the Vice-Warden as Gaoth shrieked in pain. Another strong heel drop rendered Gaoth unconscious, his head buried in the ground.

Balara spun on his heel and walked past where Río still hovered. “Let’s go,” he said, unfurling his wings. “We can’t keep Vinkex waiting for too long. Who knows how much of his surroundings he could destroy if he gets irritated.” Balara hopped over the edge of the prison cavern and flew in a steep dive with Río hot on his heels. Above them, the shadowy silhouettes of over a thousand dragons hidden in the clouds followed them.