The Last Dragon Knight

Chapter 5 - The Enemy Within

That night came with a heavy storm, bringing with it the dissonant melody of thunder, preceded by lightning strikes that wrote a song of terror and sorrow—especially for those without shelter. The knight and his companion were finishing their preparations to head west, toward the region of Hobbaristal and the coast of the Ederia Sea.

Kalen ‘Fal had told Galfrido about the mission. The latter listened to the part about the prophecy with mild disinterest—perhaps because Kalen himself didn’t seem fully convinced by the tale. Later, they agreed to depart the next day, with the blessing of the master, Sir Rhien Mildavar.

Before dawn, they loaded the saddlebags onto their horses, assisted by an initiate named Alain. Kalen had to retrieve his chainmail first, which, fortunately, Brother Weylam had finished along with his dagger. Although the storm had calmed, a drizzle still lingered, chilling them to the bone and serving as a reminder of winter’s approach in the region. By the time the sun finally rose, they were ready to leave Doknar.

“Sir Kalen ‘Fal! Sir Kalen ‘Fal!” the knight heard one of the order’s servants calling out.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s the master. He needs you urgently.”

Kalen exchanged a glance with Galfrido, who simply shrugged.

“I’m just about to depart on a mission.”

“It’s urgent, sir.”

Grumbling under his breath, Kalen began following the servant, crossing the training yard, climbing the stairs, walking down the corridor, and finally arriving at the master’s chambers. When he entered, he found Sir Mildavar dressed in a simple shirt and trousers—something highly unusual, as the master never appeared without his robes, even for the most casual meetings.

“What’s going on, Brother Rhien?”

“To the cathedral… the monks have found something.”

“And I have to be present? Galfrido and I were just about to leave.”

“Brother Kalen, it has to do with your mission.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. He swallowed hard and nodded without another word. The master quickly donned his robes, and they left in haste, with Sir Kalen and Galfrido following closely behind.

They crossed the bridge, passed along the Merchants’ Street to reach the Central Plaza, then continued uphill along the outer wall of the citadel until they reached the path to the Cathedral of Leiorus. The massive structure was rivaled only by the titanic architecture of Castle Steelhart, which could be seen even from near the walls.

The religious edifice was made of a dark gray stone, almost black, which made it stand out starkly against the white buildings surrounding it. Three enormous domes with pointed roofs jutted out from the front facade, the central one being the tallest. The tiles were a faded reddish color, covered in patches of moss.

Above the solemn main door, a pedestal held a statue of the Sun God: a man with a perfect physique, bald and bearded with no mustache, looking downward with a radiant sun behind him. The great door was made of wood with iron trimmings.

To reach the main nave, they had to cross an inner courtyard, enclosed only by a wrought-iron fence that was more decorative than defensive. The path climbed in a winding ascent toward the stairs, shaded by tall poplar trees flanking either side.

Before they arrived, a monk appeared at the entrance, running in desperation. He wore the typical garments of the Sun religion: a white robe with a golden sun in the center, and a reliquary hanging from his neck on a golden chain.

"Sir Rhien Mildavar…" said the young monk, trying to catch his breath, clearly out of shape. "He’s… inside… waiting for you…”

“Catch your breath, boy. I know the way.”

As they passed through the enormous door, a feeling of smallness overtook them in the face of such grandeur. Massive Ionic columns, each one carved with the sun’s emblem in exquisite detail, formed a kind of corridor within the vaulted and colossal ceremonial hall. At the far end, some fifty or sixty meters ahead, a marble staircase led up to the altar—also made of marble—on which rested a small golden statue of the sun god. Immediately, a chubby, bald man with a white beard approached. He also wore clerical robes, but unlike the others, his were adorned with golden pauldrons and a golden collar.

"Thanks to Leiorus, you’ve come."

"Where is it?" Rhien Mildavar asked sharply.

"Where is who?" Kalen shook his head, trying to grasp the situation.

"Brother Fal… the baby… the Dragon Knight… he’s here."

His eyes widened, and he looked at his friend, who seemed almost as shocked as he was. How was that possible? How had he come to them?

"The baby is in the lavatorium, along with two trusted clerics of mine," said the elder. "The woman who brought him—his mother—told us her village, Arretheart, was raided by orcs… Yes, orcs. I was surprised too. She said the child was born prematurely… seven months early, to be exact."

"That’s not possible…" added Galfrido from behind, making a loud clicking sound with his mouth.

"And that’s not all. She claims she never lay with any man, so no mortal could have planted the seed."

"Oh, come on!" the warrior raised his hands to the sky. "Did you bring me here for a fairy tale or what, mate?"

"Brother Kalen, please control your friend." The master was beginning to show signs of irritation. The knight gave his companion a withering glare, to which the latter only shrugged and made a gesture of covering his mouth.

"Just wait until you see him…"

“Where´s his mother?” Sir Kalen asked.

“She died shortly after we found her; she lost too much blood.”

When they reached the vaulted hall, where a large bathtub of at least five meters in diameter rested at the center, one of the clerics brought the child over to them. Upon seeing him, they were speechless. The child's white hair, the dragon-shaped mark on his face, the yellow eyes with vertical slit pupils… Yes, there was no doubt. He was the child of the prophecy.

Kalen turned his head and looked at his master.

"What do we do now?"

The elderly cleric stepped forward, interrupting the answer.

"You must keep him at Reidos Keep. I can’t think of a safer place for the child. Once winter passes, we’ll be able to take him to Trabarioth. There, the wizard Volrath will know what to do."

"He's right," Kalen nodded. "I’ve known Volrath for quite some time. He has great knowledge of the ancient prophecies and, above all, he knows the history of the Dragon Knights in great depth. If anyone knows what must be done with the child, it’s him."

"Hold on a moment," Rhien Mildavar raised his hands. "We must make sure Doknar hasn’t been compromised by the Brotherhood of the Black Flame. That orc attack was clearly orchestrated by them. What strikes me most is that more and more orcs are slipping past the control posts we have throughout the region."

"It’d be madness to think they’re trickling their army into Dorlan bit by bit," Galfrido added. "Wouldn’t it?"

"Please! An army trickling in? Into the largest region of men?"

The animosity the maester felt toward Galfrido was evident.

"I was just saying..."

"I’ll send a company of soldiers to the village of Arretheart, along with some trackers. If we’re lucky, we’ll find the trail of those bastards... For now, let’s take the child to Reidos Keep and... priest: no one must know about this. Not a single word. Not even to the nobles. When the time comes, I will inform the king myself."

"Nothing will leave this place. The woman with the baby was found by one of my clerics, returning from the fields. Leiorus smiled upon us. I don’t know what would’ve happened if someone else..."

"But that didn’t happen. Let’s give thanks to Leiorus for that."

The maester crossed himself with the symbol of the sun: he traced a circle with his open hand just in front of his chest, then brought his fist to his heart. The cleric returned the gesture, as did Kalen.

When they entered Reidos Keep, they saw that the young initiate, Alain, was still with the horses at the entrance.

"Thank you for waiting, boy. You can unload the saddlebags and return the animals to the stables. Remember that Blackmane has one of the upper stalls assigned," said Kalen without stopping. "And while you're at it, give him two apples. He loves apples."

"I’ll do so, Sir Kalen," the boy replied cheerfully, casting a slightly furrowed glance at the bundle wrapped in a blanket that Sir Rhien Mildavar was carrying in his arms.

Before parting ways, the maester turned to look at his subordinate and Galfrido and said:

"Not a word of this to anyone."

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The night appeared starry, with a waning crescent moon in the sky, surrounded by a faint, almost invisible halo of clouds. The streets of Doknar were still damp from the storm the night before and the drizzle throughout the day. Galfrido was making his way from the tavern to Reidos Keep. He knew it was very likely that, at that hour, they wouldn’t let him in—but the truth was he urgently needed to speak with Kalen.

Apparently, the baby was safe in the fort, under the protection of the knights of Reidos. If there was no longer a mission to carry out, no task left to complete, he planned to head south—maybe to Conea or Ghoriak. He didn’t want to stay even one more day in that damned city, which had done nothing but turn its back on him.

"To hell with them all..." he muttered under his breath, taking a swig from his flask.

He crossed the bridge in near darkness, lit only by the moonlight, the stars, and a few torches lining the sides, fluttering between the banners. When he reached the Keep’s entrance, as expected, he found the doors closed. Without hesitation, he knocked firmly three times. He counted to ten and knocked again. This time, a voice from inside reassured him.

"One moment, please!"

A small peephole opened, and he could see the eyes of an old man—most certainly the night watchman at the gate.

"The Keep is closed. The knights are resting now. Come back tomorrow after the morning prayers, after the second bell."

"I’m a friend of Sir Kalen ‘Fal. Go fetch him."

"I have strict orders not to disturb any knight during the night unless it's an emergency."

"Then this is an emergency. Hurry up, old man."

The servant narrowed his eyes, and his tone grew a bit graver.

"You have no emergency! Who do you take me for? Do you think I’m your butler? I can smell the alcohol from here..."

"I'm asking you respectfully..."

"Respectfully, you say?"

Suddenly, while the old man was speaking and scolding him, Galfrido caught something out of the corner of his eye that pulled all his attention toward his sense of sight. He stopped hearing, stopped feeling, stopped smelling. He turned his head and saw a shadow slipping along the massive outer wall of Reidos Keep, skirting it to disappear into the darkness.

"Hey!" the warrior shouted.

The shadow froze for a few seconds upon hearing him, but almost immediately darted off in the opposite direction.

"Call Kalen ‘Fal! I think there’s an intruder in the fort!"

Galfrido’s legs tightened to their limit as he launched into a frantic sprint—even in his drunken state. The shadow he had spotted must’ve known that the only way to escape into the lower part of the city was by crossing the bridge, and that meant passing through Galfrido.

Even though the stream didn’t carry much water, it was never a good idea to cross it in the middle of a chase.

As he got closer, he could see the figure was holding something in one hand—a bulk the size of a baby.

"Oh, by Kramer’s axe..." he muttered, imagining the worst.

His frantic and staggering sprint brought him just a few meters from the figure. The man before him was dressed in black, wearing a cloak and a hood that concealed his face. Seeing no way out, he placed the baby on the ground and, in a lightning-quick motion, turned to face Galfrido, drawing a long, curved dagger.

The warrior didn’t hesitate for a second and grabbed his greatsword. His first move was to swing it in a horizontal arc, tracing a luminous trail in the air under the moonlight, aiming to cleave the bastard in two.

However, his opponent was damnably agile. With a powerful leap, he managed to dodge the attack and slash Galfrido’s shoulder.

"You filthy dog!" he growled through clenched teeth. "I’m going to tear your damn head off."

He launched another attack, while his adversary waited, weapon raised.

It wasn’t the first time Galfrido had faced someone smaller and quicker. The first blow had caught him off guard, but it wouldn’t happen again.

He swung his greatsword overhead as if preparing for a downward strike. But just as he was about to hit, he stopped abruptly and kicked up the muddy ground, splashing the intruder’s face and catching him off guard with the unexpected move.

In that moment, Galfrido delivered a diagonal downward slash that his opponent couldn’t dodge. His greatsword tore through the right trapezius, slicing down nearly to the navel, crunching broken bones and shredding flesh with a dull, wet sound.

Blood splattered across Galfrido’s face as the intruder let out a short, choked cry and expelled a final, blood-soaked breath.

"Let’s see how you run now, you piece of shit…" he said, wiping his face. At that moment, he dropped his blood-covered greatsword and ran toward the bulk the man in black had been carrying.

It was indeed the baby. Still alive—and in fact, he gave a tender smile upon seeing him.

From the entrance to the fort, Galfrido heard the sound of someone approaching. He picked up the child with one hand and his greatsword with the other, resting the blade on his shoulder.

"Galfrido… by Leiorus, what happened?" asked Kalen, clad in his mail shirt and with Eldora drawn. He was alone. Clearly, the servant had fully understood the urgency of summoning Kalen. If there was one thing those people had, even if they weren’t knights, it was discipline.

"That happened…" Galfrido pointed at the black-clad intruder's corpse, pressing his wound with the other hand. "If I hadn’t come looking for you, the son of a bitch would’ve taken the child."

He began searching the body and found, tucked in the clothing, a strange emblem etched on a piece of parchment. It looked like a mask shaped like a bird, with circular eyes and flames behind it. Unusual cuneiform runes bordered the mask and the flame, forming the outline of a circle.

"It can’t be… That must be the Brotherhood’s crest."

"Of course it is. Someone betrayed us. The only ones who knew were you, the monks, your master, and me."

"No knight would betray us… even if they’d found out the secret without us telling them." He shook his head, trying to push away the thought.

"Think for a second, Kalen… this bastard knew where the baby was. He even managed to bypass the security and get past the walls. As skilled as he was, he had to have help from inside."

"Did anyone else see us with the child?"

"Not that I know of…"

At that moment, both looked at each other, eyes wide.

"The initiate," they said in unison.