The Knights of Aragon

Chapter 12

This is impossible! Surely, there's no way I see seven dragons in front of me at this very moment. Weren't they supposed to be up in Northstrong? Why are they down here in Aphrotre? I am alone with only a small dagger to protect me. I take deep breaths as I slowly stand. Inferno is right at the top of the pile. It was meticulously placed inside a sheath that, surprisingly, matches Inferno's hilt. It glints and shines with the gold and jewels beneath it. The questions roaming inside my mind are never ending, but I ignore them.

I rub my face in exhaustion. I wonder how the boys are doing up there. Did they make it out of that quake? If all the dragon are here, what could've possibly caused that? A dreadful thought comes to mind. What if there's one unaccounted for? What if it's still up there with them? I frantically look up at the tunnels, looking for any sign of the lone dragon. I give up almost immediately after noticing that those tunnels go into the ground, not just around the pit. I cannot stand this gods-forsaken place! Why would dragons, of all beings, willing chose to live underground?

I hear one of the dragons snort and a flash of heat warms my skin. I closely admire the differences between them. Each dragon has distinct colors that sets them apart. The smaller dragons both have green and blue scales. They must be babies of the dragons sleeping next to each other at the bottom right. The bulkier dragon has turquoise scales-that one must be a male. The one with blue scales is slender and with the most beautifully delicate wings tucked in.

The other two dragons on the left are different shades of red and orange. I believe both are males but its hard to tell. Now, the biggest of them all is almost completely orange with patches of golden yellow. Between the delicate slender shaper of its tails and the feminine facial structures. I can definitely say that this one is female. An alpha looks like. An alpha that protects what's hers. Including, and not limited to, the Inferno Blade.

I have to get up there. I survey the obstacle before me, trying to come up with an easy path up. No matter how I look at it, I won't be able to climb up without causing an avalanche. Or cause a huge commotion. "Might as well risk it, no?" I speak to myself. "If I get the sword, I'll be able to defend myself," I continue, "If not, then I could still have a chance to reach it."

I tip toe around the dragons on the ground. They are absolutely gigantic and terrifyingly beautiful. I near the pile of gold, quietly and incredibly afraid. I think that fear is what keeps me moving, keeps me fighting. It's the exact reason why I start climbing. At first, I struggle with my footing but after a few painstakingly failed attempts, I gain confidence.

I pass a lot of interesting artifacts. There are items in here that couldn't possibly be made by mortal hands. Golden cups with encrusted rubies, pieces of armors with foreign insignias that feel smooth to the touch. It's all very tempting to just take it and leave. I reach above me so I can pull myself up but something slices the palm of my hand. "Ah," I exclaim in pain.

My palm now has a small gash, going from one side to the other, my dark blood trails down my arm. I lift myself up and take a look at what sliced my palm. A crown laying on its side comes into view, my blood staining the sharp ridges that hold bright, red rubies. The circle ornament is simply bejeweled. The circlet has sapphires and jade stones placed one after the other. I tilt my head and squint at it. I solely focus on it as a memory surfaces.

All hail the King! A strum of voices rises in my head. All hail King Uther! Images of parades and feasts flash before my eyes. People, faces, voices. All that I don't recognize but I feel like I should. I am sworn to your crown, not your King... Another blurred face appears in my mind. This time I can see their eyes. They look like a green type of hazel, a clear and beautiful color.

A growl tears me from my flashbacks. My blood is now drip onto the treasures below me, staining them in red. I freeze when I feel a breath directly behind me. I send a silent prayer to the Gods that I'm wrong as I slowly turn my head around. Blood red eyes glowers at me, the black irises closely monitoring me. Heat rises from this dragon's breath. I place my forehead against the cold metals in front of me. This is quickly turned into a very bad idea. A very bad situation. Think, Valencia. You can keep going and risk death or get down and still risk death. Either way, these dragons are going to punish me for trespassing into their den and for potentially trying to steal one of their treasures.