The Dragons Queen Saga

Part 1: The Southern Journey

Dresden walked along a narrow dirt trail; tall firs and pine trees reached towards the starry heavens on all sides of him. The night was his friend. He shifted to adjust the weight of his sword. There were no threats within these woods more frightening than himself, so he walked with ease at a steady pace. He had been walking all day and too much road led to too much thinking. Thinking was dangerous. Memories were dangerous. He recalled his past uncomfortably. Not very long ago he had everything any man could hope to attain. He was in the service of the royal court, personal guard to the queen and her family. That kingdom, now too far away in distance to be considered real, had forsaken him. In these political times, Dragons were still feared; to be allied to one, when in a position of power, could prove deadly. The Dragon Council had warned him not to pursue his place at the palace as one of their guards. He refused their suggestion of course. It was not in his nature to follow the recommendations of his peers. As a Dragon he was strong willed and stubborn, but wise enough to manage himself. There was nothing they could do against him for disobeying their command. They knew he would. As an exile, he was not bound by their laws. In human form, he could go anywhere. It was a costume that suited him well, camouflaged from the disasters the world held for all beings. It concentrated his strengths and removed any weakness he had - ideal for traveling the world unnoticed. In Dragon form he had been hunted, which had been amusing for a time, but unsatisfying when no one had bested him. So he gave up the game, seeking to integrate better with humanity.

His current mood took him deep into the heart of Knotwood Forest, a known cursed land. People avoided the Knotwood because horrible fates befell whoever dared tread within its borders. Soulless demons lurked, waiting to attach themselves to unsuspecting travelers. Dragons cannot be possessed though, so Dresden was unconcerned. He hadn't heard another voice speak his name in months. Since he had been cast out of the kingdom, he'd made a point of avoiding people at all costs. So a cursed forest was a perfect place for him to camp.

By the time he had set up a small campsite, the moon shone high overhead, casting eerie shadows against tree trunks and the lush undergrowth around him. A shadow, out of the corner of his eye, slipped silently from one tree trunk to the next. Dresden pretended to be asleep. He placed a hand on his sword hilt resting across his lap. The fire light danced across his face, illuminating his sharp, masculine features. Dresden was of a compact build, not your typical Norse or Roman soldier in shape and scale. His size left most of his opponents stupefied. Some would even consider him petite or diminutive. But greatness often comes in small packages. He had the agility of a ninja and could outmaneuver bulkier foes, using his size and skill to gain advantages over them. Although he was considered small by many, this in no way affected his strength, which enabled him to wield the fierce Kızjın Kol, the sword he smelted from Dragon steel.

The shadow had moved much closer now, hidden behind a tree about ten feet away, to his left. He could feel it's demonic presence, and something else. Curiosity. Dragons felt no fear, so the demon shadow had nothing to feed on from Dresden, which must have intrigued a creature who had become accustomed to interacting with the living in a predatory manner. Dresden himself was a predator.

"This could get interesting." He let the thought pass by, opened his eyes to slits and spied his observer. The fire light billowed between them. As a shadow, the figure before him appeared as the absence of the surrounding forest, simply blackness, in the shape of a human being with no legs, as though it were floating on smoke. The voice came directly to Dresden's mind.

"You have no business here." A raspy, scraping feeling in Dresden's mind could be the only way to describe the sensation of the communication. Dresden slid Kızjın Kol from its sheath. The shadow moved threateningly closer, but remained just out of reach.

"I am only passing through, my business is of no concern to your kind." Dresden tightened his grip on the blade hilt and adjusted his position in case he needed to get quickly to his feet. Other shadows were crowding around him, though he could tell they were unaware that he could sense their presence. The demon creature speaking to him had been meant as a distraction only, to keep his attention away from the attackers. Dresden grinned. Quite a bold move to attack a person who is not afraid of you, demon, human, animal... he hadn't encountered stupidity this thick in a very long time. The idea was thrilling. He counted them quickly, while keeping his host busy with a dribble of conversation that meant nothing.

His awareness stretched out into the forest, blanketing the ground, filling the air, taking inventory of the presences that dared to attack him in such a cowardly manner. The shadow before him grew suspicious of his calm demeanor and lunged impulsively, over the fire. Dresden responded with lightning quick reflexes, kicking the coals and burning logs hard with his left foot. This sent embers into the night, illuminating his surroundings and the creeping shadows that had hoped to stay cloaked in darkness. Kizjin Kol sprang to life as Dresden rose to his feet and spun in a single motion, allowing his blade to slice the air around him in a graceful flourish. The demon shadows were unprepared for such a skilled attacker. Their collective mind recoiled as the host dissolved into ash with the touch of the blade. Kizjin Kol held powers capable of slaying even the stealthiest and darkest of beasts that bore protections against even the strongest magic. The frenzy continued as the shadows sprang at him desperately. Dresden slew them one by one, furiously and viciously; remorse was for the weak and they intended to kill him, so he showed them the same courtesy. Ashes filled the air around him as they fell. After he killed eight of them, the others retreated with indignant screeches. In a moment, all was still once more, the fire crackling, the silence returning to the forest. The only sound left was Dresden sheathing his sword. He sat down again, leaning against the same tree and let out a bored sigh before closing his eyes for the night.

He awoke to a smoking circle of ash that was his fire. Kizjin Kol resting in his lap, his belongings untouched next to him and nothing in sight but the undergrowth, shimmering in the golden beams of a rising sun in a cursed forest.