Dragon's Archon - Ch. 4 - Becoming Something Else - Alpha (Patreon)

I didn’t understand the implication at first, but it was clear by the way both women were frantically packing that this was the enemy. These were the people who hunted them. The ones they feared.

“Hurry up, Yda!” Cartha shouted. “Just grab what you can carry. They’re nearly up to the pass!”

“But the scriptures!” the priestess cried as she scooped papers into a backpack.

“Leave it! You can rewrite them.”

I shuffled around the pillar and watched as Yda readied her pack. She rolled her bedding and strapped it to the bottom, smashing everything else into the top. When she slung it over her back, she looked up at me wide-eyed.

“The Archon!” she yelled, realizing she’d forgotten about me in the brief moment of chaos.

Cartha grabbed her arm and pulled her to the doorway. “We have to go!”

“We can’t leave him!”

I held up my hand and spoke calmly. “Listen to her, Yda.” The huntress froze as if she didn’t expect me to agree with her. The brief window gave me the opportunity I was looking for. “Cartha, did you see the approaching forces?”

“Yeah why?” she asked with a cocked brow.

“How many of them are there?”

“Eleven. A ten infantry unit led by an inquisitor.”

“Do you know who they serve?”

“Does it matter? They’re coming to kill us! We need to get out of here.”

“It does, but if they are as close as you say, then I’ll ask them personally.”

Yda pulled away from Cartha and sprinted up to my waist. She gripped as tightly as she could around my thigh, failing to get a full grip. “You can’t stay, my Archon! The inquisitors will kill you.”

“Do you think so little of me, Yda?” I asked, pulling up one of her hands.

“N-no, your Holiness. It’s… it’s just you can barely walk.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” When I looked back at Cartha, she stared at me with twisted lips. I couldn’t tell if she believed I was lying to her or if I’d earned a few points of her respect. “Is there somewhere you could hide for safety that I could meet with you when all of this is over?”

Cartha stared off into the distance as she thought for a moment. “Ironcreek Bridge. It’s a half a day’s journey from here.”

“How do I get there?”

“Follow the road from the temple until you reach a crossroads at the bottom of the hill. Go right. You’ll continue on that path until you reach another crossroads that runs along a river. Take a left until you come across a decommissioned bridge. After I get Yda to somewhere safe, I'll wait for you there. If you do not show after the rise of the next moons, I’ll assume you’ve perished.”

“Fair enough.”

Cartha walked up behind the priestess and pulled on her shoulders. “Come on.”

Yda stared at me with tearful eyes. “Promise me that this won’t be the end.”

I smiled warmly. “I promise. We have so much to do. Do not worry.”

“I’ll pray for you!”

As Yda climbed up the stairs, Cartha paused and raced back. She pulled a knife from a belt holster and offered it to me. “Here. I have my bow.”

I held up my hand. “Thank you, but I don’t need it.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am.”

Cartha sheathed the weapon before tapping her finger into my chest. “You better keep your promise to her. Don’t just be another lie.”

I felt that was her way of saying good luck. I smiled and nodded with confidence. “I won’t let her or you down. You can be sure you will see me in less than a day.”

With a firm nod, the huntress sprinted through the room and up the stairs. She disappeared into the shadows.

I let out a heavy sigh and leaned my head back against the pillar that supported me. My mind raced over the endless possibilities that were about to occur. The fight was going to be eleven against one. If I was a normal man, the odds were not in my favor.

So far, I felt like my luck was shit. I thought I would have had more time to figure things out. It had been less than an hour since I woke up and was about to see my first taste of combat.

I had been in a few scraps before. But they were over stupid shit: pride, jealousy, and the occasional wrong look. When I was young and chocked full of testosterone, I made a lot of stupid mistakes. However, it was nothing more than a few black eyes and at worst, a broken nose. I’d never tried to kill anyone.

I shook my head and tried to push the thought out of my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I knew it would get to me and the last thing needed was to freeze in the middle of someone swinging a sword at my head. I was also completely confused about how my stats correlated to the reactions I’d received thus far.

I had assumed with a perfect body and a ton of charisma, I’d have both women throwing themselves at me. Yda definitely seemed interested, but it felt more like she did it more out of position and duty rather than the raw desire for me. Cartha showed little to no interest at all. Only when I showed my willingness to fight for them did she show me any sort of respect. The offering of a blade was a welcomed gesture.

This led me to believe that the underlying system that influenced everything was subtle or still had a chance of failure. That it was an algorithm that combined each user’s actions plus additional bonuses to win over hearts and minds. Not only would that allow a greater sense of free will, it also meant not everything was guaranteed.

The idea that those influences were more subtle left me feeling uneasy about how my perks worked. My lack of control over my body only reinforced this. For a moment I felt myself question whether I’d made the right decisions. But the thought of failure burned a rage inside of me that I hadn’t felt in years. I’d always been a competitive person, and I wanted to win.

This isn’t where I die, I told myself. Yda, Cartha, and Heluna are counting on me. The goddess wouldn’t have given me the power if I wasn’t capable. This is my time. My world dammit!

I bent over and slammed my fists into my thighs. Something about the idea of beating my body into submission made sense at the time. Each blow sent a shockwave through my lower body. I didn’t stop until they ached.

“Now move!” I growled.

With all my concentration, I lifted my leg and took a step. Then I took another. My movements were slow and purposeful. I made it halfway across the room before I slipped. With quick steps, I stumbled forward. I caught myself at the stairway opening. My gaze followed the twisting path upward.

The ceiling was too small for me to stand completely up. Instead, I crawled on my hands and feet, using the winding stone like a makeshift ladder. I froze halfway up when I entered total darkness. However, I could see clearly.

My vision wasn’t the phosphorus green one would expect from night vision. Everything was various shades of gray, with a subtle blue and purple tint around the edges. After remembering there was an incoming threat, I continued up the stairs before stopping at a closed roof. A small button protruded from the wall next to it. When I pushed it, the stone slid away, giving me ample space to climb out.

A colossal statue of a draconic bust stood in front of me. I grabbed its claws and pulled myself the rest of the way. Once I pulled my feet from the hole, I spun and sat on the statue's hands. The hole slid closed a few seconds later.

The climb itself wasn’t physically exhausting, but the mental focus required to think through each movement from bending my knee, lifting my foot, to lowering it, left me feeling drained. It was nice to just lean back for a moment and let my mind rest.

Massive pillars and worn archways extended the length of the nave, giving the temple its height. The ceilings were hand painted with Abetha’s history. Crowds of people bowed to the Dragon Goddess of Life.

Nature had reclaimed the building. Thin vines wove up the stonework, filling the room with lush greenery. Small mushrooms sprouted from worn pews. The stained glass windows were cracked and full of holes, allowing for the night’s light to crack inside.

There was a serene beauty to it all. But I didn’t get a chance to bask in it. Loud thuds boomed from the front doors. Even though the towering double doors were nearly a hundred feet away, I watched them flex.

Each bang brought them closer. After flipping up my hood, I waited in the shadows. I slammed my fists together to psych myself up.

Remember who and what you are, I thought. You’re an Archon. They should fear you. You do not fear them. I smiled wickedly as my body flooded with adrenaline.

Wooden shrapnel flung from the doors as something heavy slammed into it. Four guards, split into two pairs, opened the entryway. The other six marched inside with their swords drawn.

A mix of races was present. I saw furry tails and ears sprouting from their clothing. They varied in size. Each of the soldiers was heavily armored.

They wore metal cuirasses paired with bracers and greaves. Their helmets were open faced, exposing their eyes and chins. The visage of a golden dragon surrounded by pedigree was stamped on the front in bright yellows and oranges that matched their underlayers.

A lone figure marched in from behind the rest. His armor was a lot more regal, with gold etching and shoulder guards. A shawl draped over his shoulders and fabric draped between his legs.

His bald head shined with an almost divine brilliance. I was confident he was the inquisitor and, to my surprise, he was human. A massive war hammer rested on one of his shoulders. The ends of his heads were square and large enough to crush a man’s skull.

He gazed around the room as he rolled his tongue over his teeth. When he spoke, his voice was full of confidence from years of command. “Tear this place apart. If the women we seek are here, I want them found and captured.”

“You’re wasting your time,” I said.

The soldiers spun on a dime and pointed their swords in my direction. A few squinted while others sniffed the air. The inquisitor cocked his brow and took a step forward.

“Whoever you are, show yourself,” he commanded.

“I’m fine where I am.”

I soon got my chance to see magic used for the first time. After the inquisitor said a foreign phrase, three balls of light appeared above his outstretched palm. He pushed them upward into the ceiling. They expanded down the length of the tall ceilings, illuminating every inch of the temple.

“You there, vagrant,” the inquisitor said. “By order of the Archon King Dupont and I, Sir Leothold, Inquisitor of the Sect of Order, command you to identify yourself!”

I remembered how Cartha reacted to hearing my name, and so I answered him honestly. “I don’t see why it matters, but I shall answer you. My name is Devon Blackthorn.”

Murmurs rolled through the soldiers. They tightened their grips around their weapons and shuffled in place. The inquisitor took one look behind him before his men settled.

He lowered his weapon and ambled toward me. “Blackthorn is it? Quite the name.”

“Yeah, well, you can blame my mother.”

“For what purpose do you inhabit an abandoned temple of Abetha?”

“It’s a roof over my head,” I jested.

“So you admit to unlawful loitering? In the King’s land that commands a penalty of ten lashes.”

“Is that right? Well, I hope you don’t hold it against me. I’m not quite from around here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Somewhere very far away.”

Inquisitor Leothold stopped a few feet from me. He eyed me up and down, no doubt trying to get a read on me. Several of his soldiers flanked me on both sides, keeping their weapons pointed at me.

I kept my head lowered just enough so the majority of my face would be hidden. For some reason, I thought it would add to the mystique. “Your men seem nervous. That’s a lot of swords for little ol’ me.”

“Not nervous, cautious.” Inquisitor Leothold said. “It pays to be so when you’re chasing criminals.”

“Criminals? What would criminals be doing all the way out here?”

“Spreading blasphemy. We received reports there was a woman who has been traveling the countryside preaching of a new sect. A false goddess.”

“I see…”

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

I’d been contemplating how this would all play out since the beginning. My mind weighed the various options. But there was something deep in my gut that I knew what was required of me. These men were after what was mine. They had to die.

While killing them would certainly bring about more suspicion, they were on our heels. I needed to buy us more time. Depending on the type of travel, I assumed it would take days or even weeks before they stopped reporting in and another detachment would be sent for them. Plenty of time for us to get away.

“Answer me when I speak to you!” Inquisitor Leothold shouted, spraying me with spittle.

I wiped my cheek as I looked up at him and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do. I saw who you’re looking for.”

He cocked his brow and glanced at his men as if he didn’t expect me to answer honestly. “There are two of them. A small sheepkin woman and a voidelf. You saw them?”

“Yes.”

“How long ago? If you point us in their direction, I will show mercy and ignore your transgressions.”

“Mercy?” I asked before letting out a short laugh. “This place has no room for mercy, inquisitor. You and your men burst in here, uninvited, so blind in your pursuit of your quarry that you do not see the danger you are in.”

I concentrated on my legs and leaned forward. When I stood at my full height, I towered over the surrounding men. Their armor rang throughout the room as they stumbled back.

“Who—What are you?” the inquisitor asked.

The words erupted through my body with a conviction I’d never felt before. “I am Devon Blackthorn. Archon for the Sect of Rebirth. And you, Inquisitor Leothold, you and your men will be the first souls I claim in my goddess’s honor.”

“Kill the heretic!” the inquisitor screamed.

I caught the inquisitor's war hammer in the palm of my hand. His jaw dropped when he realized his fate. I palmed his head like a basketball and triggered my first spell. His skin pulled taut across his bones as I absorbed the life out of him. All he could do was elicit a wailing moan as his body became a thin husk.

The surrounding men shouted in horror as they watched their commander die in just a few seconds. A few trained well enough, shoved their blades into my torso. The metal rang with a dullness that sounded like they were hitting concrete. It felt as though I was being poked by a child’s finger.

I flipped the hammer into my hands and pulled the head over my shoulder. With as much force as I could muster, I swung into the group. The head of the weapon crushed through the breastplate with such force it ripped through the metal like paper. A chunky mist sprayed from the wound as body parts flew about the room. The war hammer continued along its trajectory, showering me with a red rain as it connected with the second and third man.

By the time it connected with the forth men, my velocity had slowed enough to cave the man’s chest in and send him off his feet. Unfortunately for me, I still hadn’t quite mastered my balance. The swing twisted me completely around and I fell to my hands and knees.

The six remaining soldiers peppered my back with their blades. The sound of tearing fabric echoed throughout the temple. As my mind tried to process what to do next, I envisioned the ringwraiths stabbing the pillows at the dancing pony inn.

The combatants weren’t the brightest lot. They’d already stabbed me a dozen times and so far hadn’t punctured me once. I wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t know what else to do or the fear had completely gripped them and it was all they could do. But the games were over.

I reached out and wrapped my hand around a soldier’s greaves. When I squeezed, it felt like snapping a toothpick wrapped in jello. I suppressed my urge to gag as I swung my arm to the side. I lifted two more soldiers off their feet. Their bodies hit the stone floor with heavy thuds, long enough for me to mount them and grip their heads.

With little more than I thought, the gauntlets triggered again. Their hands flailed and clawed up my arms as they tried to break free. It was hopeless. Once I’d absorbed their vitality, their gaping mouths and dilated eyes were all that remained of the people they once were.

Two blades clattered to the floor as the remaining men sprinted for the exit. I knew I couldn’t let them escape. Something primal took hold of me and I lunged into the air.

I galloped like a bear sprinting toward its prey. With each step, I skirted and rolled like a dog wearing shoes. I pushed myself to move faster, trying to use my upper body to reset my path. The quicker I moved, the easier it became to control. And when I nearly reached my peak speed, I ran upright.

I launched into the men’s waists, tackling them to the ground. The metal skirted along the floor, quieted only by my foes’ screams. I pushed all of my weight and force on the back of their helmets, squeezing the contents out like packets full of jelly.

I rolled off of the men’s bodies and looked back at the carnage behind me. A lone soldier met my eyes. He dug his elbows into the floor, trying to crawl his way to a nearby edge. I acted without thinking.

Even though I wasn’t exhausted, my movements felt heavy. I didn’t even hear his shouts as I crawled on top of him. My subconscious rationalized I was doing him a favor. I gripped his head and twisted. The sequence of pops and his elongated ears reminded me of breaking a rabbit's neck after a successful hunt. However, this wasn’t an animal, this was a man.

I crawled to a nearby wall and rested my body against it. Everything felt numb as I tried to process what had just happened. I felt anger, sadness, and disgust. It was all over in less than a few minutes. Yet, eleven bodies and their pieces painted every surface red.

A heavy smell of iron lingered in the air. Excess saliva entered my mouth, my body’s signal I was about to hurl. I was angry at myself for being so weak.

I shouted, slamming my fists into the ground. “This is what you wanted! This is what you asked for!”

Shards of stone flew around me as the ground cracked. I swallowed my spit and slumped to my knees. My eyes gravitated to the splatters of blood that decorated my clothes and hands. As I stared at each speck, something in my mind clicked or snapped. The disgust I held for my actions faded. I took a deep breath and held onto my logic.

If I hadn’t done this, they would have found Yda and Cartha, I told myself. They would have been killed. I saved them.

I looked down at the top of my gauntlet, its red gem swirled with energy. Pride replaced disgust. I’d done what I was reborn to do. With a thought, I sent the souls to Heluna. I imagined the excitement on her face as I sent her my first bounty. Her figurative smile helped pull me out of the hole my mind attempted to pull me in.

But what scared me was what lingered in the shadows. There was the part of me that wanted to smile for what I’d done. It relished the power of taking those men’s lives so easily. I could see in my mind's eye that my actions hadn’t satiated its thirst. It beckoned for more. More power. More blood.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there among the bodies, locked away in my own internal struggles. But rays of light entered the windows, highlighting the dust that lingered in the air. I used my legs to shimmy my back up the wall.

A piece of gold shined in the light. I had fallen from a busted pouch that was tied to a soldier’s belt. I shuffled towards it. My waist jerked with each step like someone spinning the world’s largest hula hoop as I struggled to walk. But I refused to crawl again.

I hesitated as I picked up the coin that rested in a pool of blood. Once I grabbed the first, the rest came easier. I scoured the rest of the men, grabbing one of the free coin pouches and dumping everything I could find. The inquisitor’s was the fullest and the largest, which I used to collect the rest.

I thought about taking someone’s boots, but none of them looked like they could fit me. Instead, I picked up the inquisitor’s war hammer before I exited the temple. With my hand over my brow, I shielded my eyes as they adjusted to the bright light.

An orange sun danced with fluffy white clouds among the perfectly blue sky. The horizon was littered with pockets of tall trees that extended in every direction. In between them were rolling hills of lush green grass with deep valleys. The temple was built high enough that I could see the roofs of a small town that I assumed was Muckbrooke. But it was the opposite direction of my destination.

I turned left and could see the route I was given. With as confident a step I could muster, I ventured forth to find my companions.