The Conquest of Mytheyr

“What are you doing here?” asked a female voice. “You’re not dead yet.”

“I brought him, lady Hela.” a male voice interjected. Vath was in a dark place. He couldn’t see much, just faint silhouettes, black on black. It was freezing cold. But it seemed… almost familiar, somehow. The woman’s voice, though harsh and as cold as the air around them, was strangely comforting.

“Oh! So you’re one of mine.” the woman chuckled. She was standing in front of him, close enough to touch. From her silhouette, Vath could only see that she was very tall, maybe a foot and a half taller than him. She was unusually thin as well. He could just barely make out a second figure behind her. Vath assumed this was the source of the male’s voice. This figure seemed to be around the same height as Vath, but it was weirdly shaped. Perhaps it was his clothes that gave his outline its shape, but it made him look unnatural.

“Let me look at you, child.” the woman said. Vath felt a hand on his cheek, angling his face up to look at the tall feminine figure. Her hand was somehow colder than the air. “Ah, yes, I remember now… a fine talent… and already you have returned two souls to my realm. The third, however… hmm. I suspect you will bring him to me as well, in time.”

“My lady…” the male voice said tentatively, “I do not think he can… He just began…”

“I said in time, did I not, Timore? Give him the time, and he’ll be as powerful as you are. If you’re so worried, you may keep an eye on him. However…”

“I know.” the male asserted. “Keep a mind to my duties.” The woman gave a small laugh.

“I expect great things from you, Vath.”

The silhouettes faded first, and then the darkness began to clear as Vath woke up. He was in a long hall, with heavy curtains over every window. Beds lined one wall, and people were bustling through the narrow pathway against the other wall, either bringing medical supplies to help those in the beds or just passing by.

“Hey. Heeeeeey.” a small voice said, trying to get Vath’s attention. “Are you awake yet?” Vath sat up, and looked to see a dog sized blue dragon sitting at the end of the bed.

“Yeah…” Vath said horsely, wracking his brains. “I’m sorry; I don’t know your name.”

“Timbltin.” the little dragon answered promptly. “Call me Tim and I’ll burn you in your sleep. Hey, can you walk?”

“I think.” Vath pushed himself so his legs hung over the edge of the bed, standing up carefully. He felt lightheaded, but otherwise okay.

“You’re not going to make a habit of blacking out, are you? ’Cause honestly I get enough of that out of Morgan.” Timbltin chirped so jauntily Vath couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll try not to. But is Morgan okay?” He didn’t really think Timbltin could be this cheerful if she wasn’t, but he had to ask.

“She’s fiiiinnne.” Timbltin groaned. “Honestly, like twenty people have asked me today. Is the Silver Queen alright? When will she be coming down? I hope she’s better soon, blah-blah-blah-blah. She probably won’t wake up for another day or two, but that’s nothing. Once, she was out for three years. She holds the record.”

“Record?” Vath asked.

“Yeah.” the dragon scoffed. “Dragonkin Elves faint, collapse into comas, and black out a lot.” he puffed out his chest and launched into what seemed to be a well rehearsed explanation. “There are usually two reasons for it. One, if the elf is badly injured, physically, mentally, or magically, they shut down so they can heal. That’s what’s usually up with Morgan. The other reason is because they used a powerful spell or enchantment or sometimes a curse. Draconic magic plus non draconic body equals a body that can just barely handle its own magic, so it shuts off to keep from hurting itself. Strong magic, strong mind, weak body. Well, relatively weak. Compared to full blooded dragons, that is.”

Vath looked up and down the hall. The people rushing by didn’t even notice him. “Where are we?” he asked.

“The west hall of the palace.” Timbltin said. “This hall’s been set up as a hospital. The other one’s a morgue. The ballroom’s a meeting hall. The big dogs from all over have been in there all day every day, arguing about who knows what.” Vath suddenly felt claustrophobic. He had to get out of here. He needed to get outside.

Vath scooted away from the bed and plunged into the busy hall. “Hey!” Timbltin yelled after him. “I’m supposed to keep an eye on you!” The dragon launched himself off the bed and flew after him. Vath went past the ballroom, and made a right at the end of the hall. He saw a pair of double doors and threw them open, finding himself in a courtyard garden. Timbltin flew through just as the doors closed.

“Geez. You could have held the door.” Timbltin complained.

“Sorry.” Vath said as the feeling passed.

“Boy!” a voice called from across the garden. Vath looked up to see a spectral Dark Elf, unusually tall with red and gray clothes. The ghost strolled over to Vath, a huge shit eating grin on his face. “I only wanted to say thank you. I can’t believe you did it!”

“Uh… you’re welcome?” Vath said confusedly.

“Talking to yourself?” Timbltin teased.

“What?” Vath said. “No, I’m talking to th-”

“He can’t hear me.” the ghost explained with a laugh. “Although, being a dragon, he knows I’m here. Not for long, though. I have to get back.”

“Wait, wait!” Vath exclaimed. “Who are you?”

“Who I was doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” he laughed. “All my responsibilities will be taken care of by my nephew, and my family is waiting for me. If I could, I’d let you keep my swordcraft, but apparently I can’t. At least it was put to good use the one time, ah?”

“What are you talking about?” Vath asked.

“In the hall, boy. Do you even pay attention? But I really have to go. I’ve kept my wife and boys waiting long enough.”

The ghost turned and walked down the garden path, becoming more transparent with every step. He didn’t look back, even though Vath called out to him. He faded away completely, and Vath felt an odd kind of fullness, even though he had more questions that he was sure the ghost could have answered.

“The dead are like that.” Timbltin said. “Always in a hurry to get on.”

“Oh yeah? How would you know?” Vath asked, resigned.

“I’m a dragon, buddy. We know things, ’specially about the dead.”

“Yeah.” Vath scoffed. “Sure.”