The Dragon's Oath: A Dark Fantasy Romance Adventure Page 3

  Dorian continued to stand, a shadow covering his eyes, “You could have asked by leaving a letter at the designated statue at the edge of the pass. My people inspect it every day, even if nothing has been left for several years.”

  Fenna’s eyes were wide as she kept her gaze low, “My husband was taken last night. We could not wait for a response. I knew we must leave or we would earn the same fate.”

  The lord kept his dark gaze, “What took your husband?”

  Fenna looked up, eyes watering, “I cannot say. He went out to inspect a noise and never returned. Many families have spoken of such occurrences but no one has an answer. Our Lord Daluss has sent out search parties but our missing people have not been found.”

  “Xoli, has there been any unspeakable horrors as of late in or around Uboria?” Dorian asked while never taking his eyes off the shadow elves.

  Xoli bowed her head, “No my lord.”

  Dorian smirked, “Perhaps your husband has decided to run off?”

  Fear spiraled as Fenna kept her wide eyed stare, “My Lord Lockwood, we….”

  “I am not your lord!” Dorian shouted with a harsh edge. “You are not my people and therefore do not belong under my protection. You have broken the agreement by stepping foot in Uboria and now I must deliver judgment.”

  Dorian turned to Strum, “Bring Splitter to me.”

  The general nodded before stepping away from the throne and exiting the room. Armored hands reached down and took hold of arms, shoulders and white hair of the shadow elves. Fenna gasped as she and her children were wretched to their feet.

  “Please Lord Lockwood! We only wish to safely pass through your kingdom!”

  Shadows cast inky darkness over the lord’s eyes, “The agreement calls for any shadow elf entering my kingdom to first write a letter stating their intention. Without an acceptance letter from the Lord of Uboria, none shall pass. Any who do, will be executed.”

  “Lord Lockwood, Vongoul and his conspirators paid with their lives! I’m sorry your father and your people were the target of his madness but we are not all like him!” Fenna pleaded.

  Dorian lifted his gaze, the shadows melting away to a calm expression, “Your people were shown mercy when I didn’t have the forests burned down to ash. Your people signed the agreement. You and your children have broken the agreement and I must honor it.”

  A tear streamed down Fenna’s cheek, “Please Lord Lockwood, let my children pass and I will give my life in their place.”

  Dorian kept his hard stare as a fist quivered at his side, “You are all guilty and have nothing to bargain with, not that I would bargain with such disrespectful elves.”

  Dorian looked up to the main doors at the opposite end of the throne room, “Take them to the courtyard and set up a barrel for each one.”

  Bodies moved as orders were given. The shadow elves cried out as they were dragged along through the throne room. Strum appeared at Dorian’s side, Splitter in its sheath. The lord took the sword, strapped it over his shoulder and tightened it by his ribs. Cool fury burned along frayed nerves as the lord stepped down the dais and made his way to the throne room entrance.

  Cries turned to screeches as the shadow elves fought to take hold of each other. The guards grunted, trying to keep them under control until one brought his gauntlet fist into the younger females back. She fell to one knee and received a kick for good measure. Fenna struggled until a fist slammed into her stomach, causing all the air to leave her lungs. Gasping for breath, she watched as guards pummeled her son, punching him in the head and back of the neck.

  Dorian watched as the fight was knocked out of them and they were dragged to the center of the lush courtyard. Barrels were rolled out and placed in the middle. Guards along the battlements turned their attention as everyone in the castle gathered to see what was going to happen.

  The shadow elves grunted and cried as guards shoved each one onto a barrel, their heads over the side. All three looked to Lord Lockwood as he stepped down the steps and raised a hand. Fingers curled around the pommel of Splitter and the lord drew it in one smooth move. Sunlight bathed the courtyard in brilliant light as darkness took hold of every heart.

  Dorian stepped closer, sword gleaming in the sunlight. He looked to the three shadow elves and tightness filled his chest. Rage boiled under his skin but duty called. Memories floated through the young lord’s mind as he remembered his father telling him if he didn’t follow the laws then the laws meant nothing.

  Dorian walked over to a barrel, the young male shadow elf bent over and looking to his mother. Fenna gazed to him with wide eyes and then up to Dorian.

  “Lord Lockwood….” Fenna trailed off with tears in her eyes.

  Dorian looked to her, a sliver of sadness touching his spirit. “I take no pleasure in this. I will spare you and your children what I had to witness, blindfold them.”

  Guards pulled out straps of cloth and wrapped it around the shadow elves eyes. Fenna stared at her scared children as cloth wrapped around their head, covering their eyes. A black cloth fell into her vision and pulled tightly over wide eyes.

  Dorian took in a breath before he lifted Splitter up. With one clean strike, the blade appeared before the shadow elf’s head for a moment before his head fell and hit the ground with a small, hard thud. Fenna and her daughter let out a soul breaking gasp before Dorian lifted his Splitter once again. Dark blood poured from the male shadow elf’s neck, pooling on the stone floor and filling the area with an unpleasant stench. Dorian ignored it as he brought his sword down again.

  The guards watched as the blade cut through the shadow elf’s neck like a scythe through a bed of flowers. The young female shadow elf became silent and a moment later, her head separated from her neck. Another surge of blood pumped, striking Dorian’s leg and painting it an abyssal red as he stepped over to Fenna. The shadow elf whimpered for a moment before she grew silent and gave a slight head nod. Dorian lifted up his sword and brought it down in a blink of an eye.

  Strum watched stone faced as Fenna’s head fell away and rolled along the floor before stopping on its side, jaw moving for a moment before going still. A satisfaction filled the courtyard but Dorian looked to the fallen heads and suppressed a shudder. A guard stepped over and pulled out a long cloth from his belt, running it down the length of Splitter as Dorian stood silently. Blood wiped away, the guard stepped back while several others began cleaning up the bloody bodies.

  Dorian looked up, confused satisfaction filling his heart and breaking it at the same time. He wondered if he would be so quick to take a life if one of his people broke the laws. For the most part, the kingdom was well behaved but he never dealt out justice to one of his people. He didn’t have to since his father’s death rang out across many kingdoms and was honored at the capitol with flags of Uboria hanging for a day.

  Lord Lockwood sheathed his sword when a presence touched his senses. Glancing up, he could see sad red eyes looking down on him from a window archway. The dark-skinned shadow elf’s eyes made contact with the lord before lowering. A moment later, she stepped away, out of sight from the third floor window.

  The lord sighed before turning to Strum, “Assemble a squad to investigate the Demon Pass and report back anything they discover. I don’t want them going too far in incase the elves have set up a trap.”

  Strum nodded, “It will be done.”

  A winged shadow passed over the lord. Looking up, he smiled and lowered his gaze, “I’ll be in the tower, catching up on some reading.”

  General Strum bowed his head before turning and walking off. Dorian turned to the main entrance and made his way up the stairs, his heart beating to a spirited rhythm.

  ***

  Dorian climbed the many floors until he reached the inner private royal chambers. Guards and servants moved about, attending to chores and ensuring everything was well kept. Dorian smiled as he took another flight of stairs up to the top floor. Entering the royal sleeping quarters, the lord co
uld barely contain his excitement.

  Lord Lockwood made his way down the main hall, eyes on the double doors to the private library. Hands out, he took hold of the metal handles and pulled. The door swung open easily as sunlight filled the library. Eyes adjusting, the lord noticed a dark figure sitting at the main table, unfurling scrolls while wings folded back.

  The light seemed to dim and Dorian gazed upon a half dragon woman, wearing a green robe. Green hair spilled over her shoulders as clawed fingers held up the delicate parchments. Eyes never turned away from the scrolls as Dorian stepped in and closed the door behind him.

  “I see you’re finally wearing the robe I had made for you,” Dorian smiled.

  Nypha lowered her scaled hands, looking to the lord and giving a playful smirk, “I thought it would be prudent since my naked body doesn’t allow you to look me in the eye.”

  Dorian returned the smirk, “I don’t think anyone can look you in the eye.”

  Nypha let out a whimsical sigh, “So many wonders in this world, yet so many choose to live in fear instead of embracing those wonders, a pity.”

  The young lord stepped closer until he was by the side of the table, his vision sliding over the dragon as she sat relaxed in a thick wooden chair, her eyes returning to the scroll in her hands. The robe could not contain her sensual curves. Full breasts pressed against the thick fabric and pale cleavage shined in the bright daylight. Small shadows fell from her horns but did not obscure her beauty as bright green eyes moved from side to side with the parchment in her hands.

  “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow for the celebration,” Dorian said as he tried to not overtly stare at the dragon in his library.

  Nypha lowered the scroll in her hands to the table and turned her bright gaze to the lord, “I thought I would visit……. and ask for a favor.”

  Dorian pulled out a chair and sat down, “What could the lovely Nypha require from a simple lord?”

  The dragon woman gave a small smile before her lips melted into a thin line, “I require sanctuary from a storm brewing on the horizon.”

  Four

  The lord looked to the dragon woman, eyes drinking her in as his brow hardened, “You know I will help you anyway I can. What is the danger you speak of?”

  Nypha gave a slight nod before looking away, “We can speak of it tonight over a bottle of wine and a game of Towers.”

  Before Dorian could ask anything further, the dragon woman placed the scroll in her hands onto the table and slid it forward.

  “It would seem you have some pressing manners. Have you read over these letters?”

  Dorian looked down at the scroll before picking it up, “I was meaning to review them…..” The lord trailed off. He barely had time to sift through the letters since returning from his trip. He could faintly remember Strum telling him about them but couldn’t recall when.

  Nypha eyed him with concern, “It would seem royal members of two of the neighboring kingdoms will be arriving on your birth celebration. The letters are dated weeks ago and the seals were still in place until I opened them.”

  Dorian eyed the parchment and read the words, his heart quickening with each written line. The lord let the scroll fall onto the table as he turned his gaze to the sunny balcony beyond the dragon.

  “This is not what I expected,” Dorian said with a blank stare.

  Nypha kept her face neutral, “Did it not go well with Princess Konner?”

  Dorian’s brow furled before he stood up and began to pace, “It did not. Never mind her constant need to drape herself on me any chance she could, she pushed wine and mead on me at every moment. I had thought it would be an elegant affair. Instead, I worried for my sanity as she chased me down like a boar searching for a truffle. I had to post guards at my door for the week I was there.”

  Nypha looked to the lord with understanding eyes, “Every kingdom along the edge and south of Uboria wishes to marry their family to yours. I thought this would make you happy?”

  Dorian looked to Nypha for a moment before looking away, “It does not. They all wish to gain a foothold to my kingdom so they can share the gem mines. I wouldn’t be so upset if I couldn’t see through their selfish desires.”

  “You have denied every marriage proposal. How long before they turn your rejections into an insult? I am not just your protector but your advisor and it is only a matter of time before they push the matter. You must marry, for all the kingdoms along the Tower’s Edge.”

  Dorian stopped pacing and turned to Nypha. She sat with wide, almost innocent eyes. Heart thudding in his chest, he didn’t want to admit what his heart sang. His kingdom was strong and prosperous but a deep concern rooted in his mind, whether to follow tradition or follow what his heart desired most.

  “Perhaps we can talk about it over wine tonight. I have not had a warm start to my day.”

  Nypha nodded, “I saw. I assume the shadow elves crossed into Uboria without permission.”

  Dorian nodded, “And I had to deal out justice for their transgression.”

  “How did it feel?”

  The young lord was quiet. He couldn’t bring himself to say the haunting confusion he felt. It spiraled against his heart like a contained storm. Pieces of him felt content while others raged on with heated sadness. The lord wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and hug the beautiful dragon around the waist, professing his doubts and his pain. Instead, he stood, locking up his inner world with distant eyes.

  “It didn’t feel like anything. I did what the law required.”

  The dragon sat with her legs crossed, scaled hands on her lap. She listened as Dorian’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. The air took on a taste of chaos mixed with flashes of true light. The lord’s scent rose up like a warm musk but the dragon kept her gaze neutral.

  Dorian let a smirk fill his cheek, “Let’s not fill our time with such gloom. I will have the servants prepare your bedroom. You can stay as long as you like or until this mysterious storm of yours passes.”

  Nypha bowed her head and closed her eyes, “Thank you my lord.”

  The lord eyed the beautiful green-haired half dragon woman for a long moment, drinking in her beauty. Cruel duty whispered in his ears, and as much as he wanted to push it away to sit with his royal protector and advisor, the needs of his kingdom came first.

  The lord turned away and walked out of the private library. Nypha watched him go, her heart beating to an intimate song.

  ***

  The afternoon spun on and day soon turned to evening. Dorian moved about the castle, informing Strum and servants to ready the royal guest quarters and add further seating to the Banquet Hall. Supplies continued to roll in on wagons and horses to fill the kitchens and add casks of wine and barrels of mead to the already full storage areas. The entire kingdom buzzed with excitement at their Lord’s coming birth celebration.

  Dorian’s thoughts shifted to the private royal quarters and a certain green-haired dragon but the General and aids quickly brought him back down to reality, as preparations required his approval. As evening fell to night, Dorian turned to Strum and let out a tired exhale.

  “Can you handle the rest? I believe I will retire to the tower for the rest of the evening,” Dorian said with a touch of weariness in his eyes.

  Strum nodded and gave a sly smirk, “One of the aids informed me that Lady Shadowfyre’s room is prepared and several bottles of red sit in the private library, the Tower game set up on the main table.”

  Dorian looked to the general and returned his smirk, “Is there something else you wish to add?”

  Strum’s smirk faded as his eyes took on a serious gaze, “May we speak first thing in the morning, privately?”

  Dorian’s smirk slipped away, “You know we can. Is it something I should be concerned about?”

  Strum shook his head, “Nothing that can’t wait till morning. Enjoy your evening and sleep well Lord Lockwood.”

  With that, General Strum turned and walke
d off, two aids in tow. The lord looked to the general with a questioning gaze before warmth filled his thoughts. Turning away, the lord made his way down the corridor for the stairs.

  Dorian reached the stairwell and was about to begin his climb when a cloaked shadow moved down a corridor to his left. The lord turned his head to see the familiar gray robe, hood up and shadows obscuring everything but the delicate chin. A sudden urge to keep walking filled him but a nagging tug caused him to stay where he was. A long second passed before he turned and began walking down the corridor to the robed figure.

  “Jyda,” Dorian began.

  “No need to explain my lord. My people entered the kingdom without permission,” the shadow elf said as she pulled back her hood.

  Dorian gazed on her beauty. Red eyes glowed in the dim torchlight. High cheekbones framed her face to give her a high-born appearance but her voice floated up like an innocent. Dark violet skin caused her crimson eyes and pure white hair to stand out amid the shifting shadows. The shadow elf’s hair was tied back into a tight braid as long pointed ears framed her already delicate features.

  The lord had known the shadow elf for nearly six years. Her father did not wish a war between their races due to one misguided shadow elf and his cultist followers. To further peace efforts, his eldest daughter was given to the Lockwood family as a symbolic promise they would not return. Dorian did not want another shadow elf to befoul his kingdom but Strum indicated it would work in their favor should her people ever decide to march south through the pass.

  Faint memories rode the stream of thoughts. Dorian remembered how at first he wished the shadow elves would march so he could slit her throat himself. The hatred burned bright and every time he saw her, he would spit his dissatisfaction, sometimes striking her clothing. The images of her people stabbing and cutting down his father left a fiery poison the young lord never wanted to go away.

  Time passed and the anger dimmed, not for her people but for her. The shadow elf showed nothing but respect, even when Dorian was less then graceful to her. She never raised her voice or protested. The shadow elf haunted the castle for she could go nowhere else, a prisoner for the crimes of her people. The young lord found it difficult to hate her as she showed elegance under such draconian treatment, especially by him. Years marched on and the young lord grew to know her, but continued to keep a healthy distance, with the dreadful spark of hatred under his skin.