Chapter 4
Damion quickly made his way through the shadows and vegetation with Snowfeather gliding silently overhead leading him towards the area where the owl had spotted the creatures. He ignored a rabbit that burst from concealment a few feet ahead of him, resisting the impulse to give chase that was natural for a panther, and kept his mind on the task at hand.
He had quickly learned that when he assumed the form of another animal, he also assumed their traits and instincts. A rabbit was natural prey for a panther, and his instincts told him to race to the attack. Normally, he would indulge in the hunt, but he had more pressing matters at hand.
It wasn't long before he began to pick up a foul stench in the air. He quickly followed the scent to a large group of short, disgusting-looking creatures that he guessed could only be goblins. They had grayish-green skin, and course shaggy hair that covered their oddly-shaped heads and back. They had pig-like faces with large yellowish tusks that protruded from jutting lower jaws, and tiny pale eyes that seemed completely devoid of any color. They were armed with a variety of crudely made clubs and spears, and many had fashioned themselves a sort of makeshift armor that appeared to have been pieced together from scraps of metal that had been salvaged and tied together with strips of leather. They were all resting together in a small clearing, grunting and squealing to one another in their crude language.
Damion silently circled the creatures to be sure that none were lurking outside of the clearing. He counted thirty in all, all resting together, and oblivious to his presence.
He settled down in the shadows and took a moment to carefully weighed his options, then drew his magic and focused it upon the ground on which the creatures were resting. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then slowly, one by one, each goblin slowly began to sink into the ground, which had suddenly become like quicksand. It took several long moments for the creatures to realize their predicament, then one of them yelped in surprise, alerting the others. They began to thrash about, desperately trying to find some way to pull themselves to safety, but their thrashing only caused them to sink quicker. One by one, each goblin disappeared into the quicksand, leaving behind no trace of their presence.
After once again making sure that there weren’t any more of the creatures lurking nearby, he drew in his magic and again focused it upon the clearing, transforming it back to solid ground.
He searched for several minutes before picking up another scent, this one with a reptilian quality. He silently followed the scent, slipping in and out of the shadows like a ghost. He soon came upon a large encampment of both dragonspawn and goblins. They were camped together in a large clearing, though they were obviously not very happy about it. The goblins were gathered together on one side of the camp, while the dragonspawn were gathered on the other. They each sat around their separate fires glaring at one another with hateful stares, but made no attempts to attack one another.
Damion counted nearly a hundred of the creatures altogether, but saw no sign of the human. Once again, he circled the camp, taking care not to be seen while he weighed his options.
After thinking it over for several moments, he was struck by a sudden inspiration, and slipped silently into the shadows and shifted back into his human form. He searched the ground quietly for a few moments and gathered several fist-sized stones, then quietly crept closer to the clearing.
Aiming carefully, he threw one of the stones over the heads of the dragonspawn, hitting one of the goblins hard in the forehead, nearly knocking it unconscious. It squealed in pain, then leapt to its feet grunting and snarling in anger at the dragonspawn. One of the large scaly dragonspawn snarled back at the creature angrily, and made what Damion presumed to be a rude gesture. The goblin returned to its seat, still muttering and rubbing its forehead gingerly.
Damion silently circled the camp once more, and stopped behind the goblins. Taking another stone, he hurled it over the goblins' heads, hitting one of the dragonspawn hard in the side of the head. It leapt to its feet wielding a spike-studded club, and snarled in rage at the goblins, who in turn, jumped to their feet brandishing their own weapons. He threw one last stone, striking the same dragonspawn solidly in the chest. That was all it took. The creature roared in rage, then charged at the goblins, who eagerly met its charge.
Damion sat back in the shadows and watched in satisfied amusement as the two groups of creatures effectively slaughtered one another. When the battle was over, there were only three dragonspawn left alive, though one was mortally wounded.
Damion calmly stepped out into the clearing and drew his sword, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he strode forward to battle the last of the surviving dragonspawn.
The largest dragonspawn, the same beast Damion had hit with the stones, spotted him and snarled, licking its dagger-like teeth with blood lust. It charged, swinging its spiked club wildly. Damion easily sidestepped the creature’s wild swings and thrust out a foot, tripping it up, and causing it to go tumbling head over heels. He easily ran the second dragonspawn through, then kicked its twitching body from his blade, and turned his attention back to the first beast, which was struggling back to its feet. It lunged at him, swinging wildly, but he nimbly sidestepped the lunging creature and kicked it hard in the pit of its stomach. It dropped its club, and doubled over clinching its stomach. With an almost casual backswing of his sword, he removed its head, a little disappointed that it didn't put up a better fight.
He chuckled as he wiped the blood from his blade with the edge of his cloak. He had enjoyed dispatching the disgusting creatures. He was well-aware of the fact that the attack on his mother by the dragonspawn was the leading cause of her death, not to mention his deformity, and felt some measure of retribution had been served.
He discovered the last remaining dragonspawn had already succumbed to its injuries, and felt a small pang of disappointment. He had enjoyed the rush of adrenaline he had felt during the battle, and had hoped to finish the last one off himself, though he was rather surprised at his own ferocity.
He took one last look around clearing, then shifted once more into the form of a panther and slipped off into the shadows.
“Nice job back there.” Snowfeather praised as he glided down from above. “It almost looked as though you were having fun.”
Damion bared his fangs in a smile, but said nothing. He searched the area for any more of the creatures that may have been lurking about, or for any signs of the human that had been leading them, but finally gave up and made his way back towards to the spot he had left his father and the others.
He was nearing the clearing where he had last seen them when he heard a hoarse shout, then the fierce sounds of fighting. He raced through the underbrush, then burst into the clearing to find it nearly overran with dragonspawn. The soldiers from the castle were desperately trying to hold the reptilian creatures back, while Lord Michael and Sly were back-to-back, valiantly trying to fight the creatures off, but it was clear that they would soon fall.
Damion immediately shifted back into his own form and drew his sword, roaring in anger. He charged through the throng of scaly creatures, his sword flashing though the air faster than the eye could follow. The dragonspawn fell back from him in fear, scrambling over one another to escape his rampage. A sizzling pulse of energy suddenly surged from his fingertips, striking one of the cringing beasts hard in the chest, sending it flying through the air, where it crashed hard into several of its companions.
Damion suddenly dropped his sword and began throwing balls of pure white fire which formed in his hands as fast as he could throw them. He sent them streaking through the air, and the dragonspawn began to fall to the ground with large smoking holes appearing where ever the fireballs struck. Bodies began to pile up as he continued his attack on the panicking creatures with an animalistic viciousness. Finally, the last few remaining dragonspawn broke and ran, trying desperately to avoid the deadly barrage of fireballs that continued to streak through the air.
/> Once they had all disappeared, leaving dozens of their dead behind, Damion retrieved his sword, then went to his father's side. “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.
Lord Michael and Sly stood staring at him in shock. They could not believe the ferocity in which he had fought! He had torn through the entire group of creatures single-handedly, and didn’t have as much as a scratch on his body!
“I’m fine.” Lord Michael told him with an angry expression. He was breathing hard and sweating profusely, and had several minor scrapes and cuts on his face and arms, but otherwise appeared to be uninjured. “What do you think you were doing running off on your own like that?” He demanded in a furious tone. “You could have been killed!”
“I was in no danger.” Damion assured his father. “I was able to get rid of the rest of the dragonspawn and goblins that were camped upstream. I guess I must have missed these beasts somehow.” He gestured to the corpses that lay scattered about.
“They seemed to appear from nowhere, and attacked without any warning.” Sly told him, his face dark. “Was there any signs of Kaviel?”
Damion shook his head. “I located a group of goblins not far from here, then another large camp of both goblins and dragonspawn farther upstream, but I didn’t see any sign of a human.”
Snowfeather flew up and landed on Damion's shoulder chattering angrily. “What did you think you were doing?” He squawked, pecking him hard on top of his head. “You're going to just charge right into a mob of those creatures? Are you stupid? Are you trying to get yourself killed? You’re just going to run off without a word, not even taking the time to consider what would happen to me if you got yourself killed?” He pecked Damion on top of his head once more, then fluffed his feathers indignantly.
“Ow!” Damion rubbed his head with one hand.
Lord Michael looked at Snowfeather, realizing the huge bird was angrily berating in his son. “Do you mind waiting until I am finished scolding him before you start? I am his father, you know.”
The huge snow owl fluffed his feathers again, but fell silent.
Lord Michael looked back at his son, his face stern. “I can’t believe you would run off like that without telling us what you were planning! That was very dangerous!” He made an unconvincing show of stomping around angrily, though it was obvious he was quite impressed by how well Damion had handled himself against the dragonspawn.
Damion hung his head in a show of shame, but inwardly smiled. It was obvious he had surprised to his father once again. He was certain that his father now knew he was quite capable of taking care of himself. “I’m sorry, Papa. I guess I should have told you what I was planning. It won't happen again.”
Lord Michael sighed, shaking his head in mock resignation. “What did you do?”
Damion quickly explained how he had dispatched the other creatures that he had located, then smiled when his father laughed.
“Quicksand?” Lord Michael was clearly impressed. “What made you think to use quicksand?”
Damion shrugged. “I didn't want to leave any trace of their presence behind, and that was the easiest way I could think of in such a short time.”
Sly checked each of the castle soldiers for any signs of life, but sadly reported that none had survived.
Lord Michael sighed heavily. “Well, there is nothing else we can do. Let’s get moving. I don't wish to hang around here any longer and invite more trouble. The...” He stopped abruptly, staring in disbelief at the arrow that was suddenly protruding from his chest.
Damion watched in horror as his father fell to the ground, his heart fatally pierced. “Father!” He screamed, rushing to Lord Michael's side, at the same time, searching for the unseen archer.
Standing about thirty paces away, partially concealed by a large grove of bushes, stood the scar-faced human, Kaviel. The filthy-looking man tossed aside a large crossbow, and laughed a cruel barking laugh.
Sly snarled in rage at the sight of the white-haired scoundrel, then ripped his sword from its sheath and charged towards him roaring in fury.
Kaviel laughed again, then raised his hand, revealing a large red gem which was glowing with an unholy light. In the blink of an eye, the scar-faced man disappeared, his cruel laughter echoing hauntingly for a moment before fading away.
Damion gently cradled in his father's head in his lap, tears flowing down his cheeks. He tried to pack cloth around the wound to stop the blood flow, but soon realized it was useless. His father was already gone. He let out an inhuman howl of anguish that resounded through the mountaintops. The feeling of loss was nearly unbearable! He felt as though he was having a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.
Sly searched the area for any signs of Kaviel, then quickly gave up and went to Damion's side. His face was sad as he put his hand on his pupil's shoulder. “There isn't any sign of Kaviel anywhere. He just vanished. It seems he used magic, though I have never known him to use it before.”
Damion looked up and wiped his eyes, his despair slowly being replaced by a burning anger. “Why would he do this? Why would he kill my father?” His eyes began to glow an eerie red as the anger continued to build.
The little man shook his head. “I don't know, young one, and we haven't time to sit and debate his reasoning. We will have to make a litter for your father's body, then find a place to bury him once we are safe. We cannot remain here. The dragonspawn and goblins may return with reinforcements.”
“Bury him?” Damion exclaimed, outraged by the suggestion. “We can't bury him out here in the middle of nowhere! He deserves a proper burial!”
“We haven't any choice, Damion! We will never make it to the castle if we have to carry his body the entire way!” Sly looked at him, his expression sympathetic. “Your father would want us to make it to the village safely.” The little man laid a caring hand on Damion’s broad shoulder. “We haven't any other choice. I am sorry, but this is the way it has to be.”
Damion's face grew red with anger as he struggled to keep himself under control. He knew that Sly was right, but the shock of his father's death still numbed his senses. He knew there wasn't any other option but to leave his father's body behind, but the thought of such an act tore at his heart. He finally agreed, then lifted his father's body into his arms effortlessly, and set off in search of a suitable burial site.
After several miles, they discovered a small grove with soft, fertile earth, not far from a small natural spring. He gently laid his father's body aside and set to digging a grave, once again refusing Sly's offer of assistance. Once he had the grave deep enough to prevent it from being disturbed by scavengers, he gently lowered his Lord Michael's body into the grave and covered him over. He then collected a number large of stones and laid them atop the grave to further protect it from being disturbed. He finished by driving his father's sword deep into the earth at the head of the grave.
When he was finished, he turned to Sly, who had watched him toil in silence. “Make camp.” He ordered the little man, his face like granite. “I would like to spend a little time alone here, please.” His eyes reflected his pain, though his face remained emotionless. “I will be along in a little while.”
Sly started to argue, but was silenced by Damion's grave expression. He nodded, then quietly moved off a ways and began to set up camp.
Once he was alone, Damion bowed his head in honor of his father and begin to weep, his heart aching with sorrow. After a while, he heard the soft rustling of feathers as Snowfeather appeared from the shadows and landed on a nearby branch.
“Damion?"
He sighed deeply. “Where did you disappear to?” He asked aloud, his voice hardly more than a whisper.
“I was searching for any sign of that human from the air.” The normally boisterous owl was unusually subdued. “I am sorry for your loss. I liked your sire. He will be missed.”
Damion bowed his head for a moment, then asked. "Did you find any signs of Kaviel?"
“Nay. There was no sign of h
im anywhere. But there seems to be some kind of disturbance to the southwest. There was a lot of smoke, but it was too far away for me to investigate.”
Damion sighed again, then rose to his feet. “We had better tell Sly. I'm sure he would want to know about this.” He slowly started off, then paused, turning back towards his father's grave. He drew in his magic, and focused it upon the fertile earth around the grave. Slowly, a number of small green sprouts appeared, growing rapidly larger and spreading into thick vines that completely engulfed the grave. With a quick gesture, the vines suddenly bloomed into hundreds of colorful fragrant roses. He bowed his head once more and whispered fiercely. “I am sorry, father. I must leave you now. We have no other choice. But know this! I will avenge you! I will make this man suffer for what he has done! This I swear!” His eyes flared a fiery red with this oath, glowing eerily in the evening gloom.
Sometime later, he sat quietly near the fire, unable to sleep. Sly was also awake, silently tending to the fire. The little man had been silent since Damion joined him at the camp, though it was obvious that he wished to talk. Finally, he sighed, then went to Damon’s side. “May I sit?”
Damion shrugged his indifference.
Sly sat down, looking a little uncomfortable. “Where’s the feather duster?” He asked, referring to Snowfeather. “I haven't seen him in a while.”
Damion chuckled despite his grief. “He went hunting for his dinner. He should be returning soon.”
The little man shifted uncomfortably. He had never been any good at lending moral support. “I am really very sorry about your father. He was a good man.” He paused, unsure how to continue. “I know you probably do not wish to talk about this, but we really need to make some decisions before we reach the village.”
“I’m not going to the village.” Damion replied, his face like stone. “I'm going to return to the valley.”
Sly shook his head. “No, you're not.”
Damion looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You may not realize this, but with your father's death, you are now the Lord of Castle Rosewood. You will have to return to Sevria and take on your father's responsibilities.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Damion scoffed dismissively. “I don't know the first thing about running a castle. I wouldn't know what to do. Besides, I doubt if anyone would accept me as the new lord of the castle.”
Sly decided not to press the subject, not wanting to upset the grieving boy further. “Why don't we get some rest and discuss this in the morning?” He rose to his feet. “Try to get some sleep. We will decide what to do tomorrow.” He stretched out on his bedroll, but was startled back to his feet by Snowfeather, who was returning from his nightly hunt.
Settling on Damion's shoulder, the huge owl was panting heavily, and obviously exhausted. “Damion, we have a big problem! I decided to investigate that disturbance I saw to the southwest while I was hunting.”
Sly watched as the color drained from Damion's face. “What is it? What is wrong?”
“They're gone!" Damion's face was shocked. "The castle and the village! They're gone!”
“What do you mean, they're gone? Damion, what has happened?” The little man was growing alarmed.
At first, Damion could not bring himself to answer, then he finally forced himself to reply. “The village and the castle... They have been completely destroyed!”