Dragon: A Histories of Purga Novel

Chapter Nine

Wilhelm stood with his hands behind his back. He was on a balcony on one of the Citadel's highest floors, watching as dozens of smoke columns drifted into the sky. Things were proceeding nicely. The Blak Army had complete control of Roanoke. The Outposts were next on the list and then, the Terraquois. He was saving them for last. He wanted to bask in the glory of exterminating their savage species off the face of Purga. It would be a just punishment for what they did to him.

He remembered the invasion of Ledun perfectly. He had told King Rowan that going into the forest without prior intelligence was foolish. They had no idea what they would be facing. The King overruled him and commanded his men to go in anyways. Despite his reservations, he'd fought valiantly, side-by-side with his King. They breached the forest and promptly burned out the Terraquois. But something went wrong. Up in the leafy branches, he'd come to a large hut. Before he knew what was happening, a tiger attacked from out of nowhere. One second, the bridge he'd been on was empty and the next it was there.

It roared so fiercely and loudly that Wilhelm stumbled. He lost his footing and tripped.

The tiger didn't hesitate. As soon as he fell, it mauled him. It's huge, sharp teeth sank into the flesh of his arm while its claws ripped at his chest. He'd been in so much pain. More pain than he'd ever experienced before.

He managed to keep it away from his throat with one arm and pull his blaster out with the other. He fired as soon as he could and the tiger howled in anger and pain. It backed away from him and shimmered into the form of a Terra girl that didn't look any older than a teenager. There was an ugly burn in her side from where he shot her but she didn't look like she even felt it. She had wild hair and even wilder eyes.

He got up, shakily, and leaned against the post of the suspension bridge that connected the tree houses. He remembered her yelling furiously and then she rushed him. Before he could react, he felt himself being pushed. He couldn't even get another shot off. He tried to reach out while his body flooded with adrenaline, but his grasping hands closed on nothing but empty air. Time seemed to slow as he fell. Thick branches slammed into him, over and over again. He could feel the bones in his rib cage splinter and crack. Another branch punctured his side and held him there, impaled for a moment, before it snapped and he fell the hundred or so feet to the ground. A raging inferno engulfed him then, the fires that his own people had started, and all he knew was pain.

The last emotion roaring through him at the time was rage. Blinding anger against the Terraquois, but an equal amount of anger against King Rowan, the foolish glory-monger that had gotten him killed.

But he hadn't died. He had survived. Against all odds. He had spent a long time recovering and in that time he created his plan. To make this world a better place, he had to destroy it. He would see to it that it all burned and then he would recreate it from the ground up.

After all those years spent planning, it was finally coming together.

Yes. Soon we will rule this pathetic land, a voice whispered through his mind. It was a sinister, evil thing but he shook his head and pushed the voice away for now. He couldn't let himself be distracted.

"Master," Lord Guilder said.

Wilhelm turned to look at the fat lord, his hood masking his disgust. He had never liked him personally. Lord Guilder had always been an ignorant, self-absorbed little lunatic, but he was useful. He had gladly accepted the job of murdering the Crown Prince. In fact, he'd done it with an almost maniacal glee. That kind of insanity was hard to predict, Wilhelm admitted, but it was also easily directed.

"Report," he answered. The mechanical tone to his voice rang out oddly in the nearly empty room. His vocal cords had been almost completely burned away in the fire as he screamed and screamed in pain. He had used his nanos to create a synthetic substitute. It worked, but the quality was imperfect. It was why his voice held that oddly metallic tone to it.