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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Broadswords - 23. The Focus

Broadswords


Chapter Twenty-Three
The Focus


It had been a week since Elan had discovered that the chasm was chock full of dragon babies, yet he was no closer to formulating a plan than when Kep had first brought the situation to his attention. He wasn't used to being at a loss for ideas.

He'd brought the issue to the king, but the reaction he'd received was far from what he'd expected. It wasn't that the king disbelieved him – no; on the contrary, the king seemed extremely convinced. But a sense of pride was also at play with Jhirdyr's leader. "We're not bringing other kingdoms into this, Elan. We're the highest ranked kingdom for dragonslaying across across all of the six continents, all sixteen kingdoms. If any of those other kingdoms caught wind that we needed help… absolutely not."

Elan had never heard the king speak so frankly, and in a way it was uncomfortable. There weren't many people that talked down to him, but someone in such a prestigious position obviously had the capability to do so. And in that moment, the king didn't hold anything back.

"If any of the in-betweens knew that was happening, we'd really be in for it. Handle this. You're the top ranked slayer in the highest ranked kingdom. Do your damn job, prove you deserve that ranking. Keep this with our slayers only. Don't let us lose our status."

The in-betweens, as the king had mentioned, was a slang term used to refer to the villages, towns, and cities that fell between kingdoms. While some of the in-betweens such as Baronne and Brookstone were far closer to Jhirdyr than any other kingdoms, there were plenty of other places that could call on multiple kingdoms. A town that was equal distance from Jhirdyr as it was from another kingdom, for example, really had its choice of which slayers it wanted to utilize. In the king's mind, some of the in-betweens could begin to shift their requests for dragonslayers to another kingdom if they felt Jhirdyr wasn't cutting it any longer.

Although the king had forbid the assistance from other kingdoms, he had allowed Elan to request help from the other Jhirdyrian slayers. And it was in Elan's hands to put a call to action together. His fear was that some of them would be tentative, due to the extensive danger involved in this particular scenario. Not that they'd really have much choice; if they didn't participate, they would surely lose their ranking. And depending on the outcome, the king might even remove them from their positions altogether.

Elan knew he could easily get Daegon involved. However, Daegon was still missing in action. Elan had attempted to gather more clues from Kep, but the kid didn't seem to know much more about the situation than how long the trip would allegedly take. And that information didn't help Elan in the slightest – it could indicate several cities or towns to which Daegon might have traveled.

He had considered mentioning it to the king, that Daegon had accepted an unofficial dragonslaying quest. But given the current situation, it would probably only set the king into more of a frenzy. Plus, Elan had never been a snitch. Even though it was quite possible Daegon was involved in something unsavory, he didn't want to knock another slayer down in the rankings by tattling to the royal family. In any event, Elan didn't know exactly what Daegon's mission entailed. It could be something that no slayer could have passed up. He couldn't be sure he wouldn't have accepted it himself, if it was epic enough.

But it wouldn't make the chasm situation any easier. Daegon was one of the better slayers, and not having him involved would be a handicap. Of course, there were still a few weeks left before any action was probably required. At the same time, according to the information Kep had shared, Daegon and his squire should have already been back days ago.

Further, Elan definitely didn't want to blackball Daegon. He had made for a rather enjoyable romp in the bedroom, and if he angered him in any way, it would be a certain no-go for a repeat.

He hadn't cast Kep off as a viable option for a bedmate, either. Kep had crossed his mind a couple times since they'd shared the horseback rides to and from the cave. The sensation of Kep's rough hands grasping Elan's waist hadn't been forgotten. The barkeep was going to meet up with him the following afternoon, in fact, to help him discuss the strategy. He didn't need Kep's help, of course, but he was not about to turn down the company.

He shook his head. Maybe he was just in need of a nighttime visitor in general. It had been a while since he'd slept with anyone – Daegon had been the last, actually. It was evident that the lack of sex was impacting his ability to think straight. He decided he needed to get out of the house, clear his mind. Perhaps another visit to the cave would get the ball rolling in his planning.


After fetching his horse, Elan navigated his way to the cave with ease. He was a natural when it came to directions, generally needing to have traveled somewhere just once to lock the route in his memory. Upon his arrival, he followed the same routine as the previous time, including covering up the fire pit once his torch was lit and tying his horse in the same spot.

As it was the middle of the night, the darkness outside of the cave mirrored that within. Once Elan had gone a significant distance into its depths, he stopped and turned back toward the entrance. Due to the matching blackness on both sides of the cave's mouth, he couldn't be sure where the exit actually was. It made the cave seem bigger somehow, as if it were infinite.

He resumed his trek, slowing his steps the further he went. He knew that the chasm dropped abruptly, and the last thing he wanted was to fall into the pit knowing what was down there. Well, partially knowing. He knew there were dragons, he knew there were twelve, and he knew they were recently hatched. Aside from that, he knew nothing.

Setting his bag down amongst the rocks and scattered foliage, he followed suit in sitting cross-legged on the ground. He opened the flap carefully, treating the moment almost as if it were a sacred ritual. And in a way, it was. He lifted the grey-brown wooden box from the leathered confines and set it on top of the bag. He'd chosen to keep the dagger fully enclosed in its original case versus keeping it sheathed at his side. After all, it wasn't a quick-draw type of weapon. He had plenty of other tools that would fit that need. No, this one was much more important. He didn't want it jostling around unprotected.

With precision, he pierced the spike through his palm. He knew exactly what to expect this time, and he exhaled in pleasure as the warmth began flowing through his body. It was exhilarating, the feeling, unlike anything he had ever felt before. It wasn't as extreme as the experiences felt through alcohol, sex, or dragon's tongue. It was subtler than that, but intense in its own way. It was the sense of awareness that it brought. He felt more in touch with everything. It was glorious.

Similar sensations to the ones he felt during the previous usage had begun pulsing within him again. The dragons, the feelings they felt. It was foreign to him, the rawness of the things that he picked up on. He couldn't put it into words. But in his core, it just made sense.

He squeezed the hilt tighter, forcing the spike deeper into his flesh. It was involuntary; the rush of awareness that the dagger brought seemed to subconsciously cause his fingers to close around the fabric-wrapped metal.

He closed his eyes, directing all of his focus toward the dagger's properties. He sat there unmoving, letting the magic run its course. The time ticked by silently. Elan had beyond lost track of time. It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours. He wasn't sure. He was addicted to the power, and that's all he noticed.

Something was working, though. He was picking up things he hadn't the last time. The dragons were a manufactured breed. He had no idea how he was getting information like that, but he felt it deep in his bones. It was true. They weren't natural dragons at all, they had been created from magic. Additionally, he knew that they had all been birthed from the same mother, all in one batch, and she too was the result of magical conception.

These details threw a whole new wrench in his plans. He had expected that they'd find a way to determine the precise breed, which would in turn help him come up with things they could do to quell the situation before the dozen beasts burst from the earth. But now… now things were far more complicated. Since they were an unknown breed, he didn't know what would work against them. In fact, they could be unbeatable. Their skin and scales could be impenetrable. There was no telling, considering this was unprecedented territory.

That would have probably been a good time for him to give the dagger a rest and mull over the new things that he had learned. But he couldn't stop now. Maybe extended use would keep more information flowing through his veins. Maybe it would even clue him in on ways to defeat the dragons. Maybe it would tell him how to finish it on his own, without the other slayers.

He kept his attention focused, but slowly shifted himself across the ground until his back made contact with the cave wall. If he was going to be there a while, he wanted a solid stance so that all of his energy could remain concentrated on where it needed to be.

More time passed, and he began to feel cold. It had to be the combination of the night air and the stony interior of the caves, he told himself. He ignored the feeling as best as he could. He couldn't allow it to distract him.

Slight shivers began convulsing through him, but still he fought through the discomfort. Chills wouldn't be the reason he stopped his meditation. But the more they occurred, the harder it was for him to maintain his focus. He felt clammy. It was so cold.

He finally opened his eyes, and was met with blurry surroundings. His torch, which he'd planted into the ground, had evidently burnt out a while ago. The sun was up, he could tell, as it wasn't as dark as it had been when he'd first closed his eyes. But nothing was quite focused. And he was still cold.

Once again, he felt the involuntary actions of his body as his eyes fluttered closed. His focus and concentration were gone. It was just so cold.

Copyright © 2018 Disjecta Membra; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

35 minutes ago, Nancer said:

Uh oh... sideways is coming at everyone real fast.

There sure is a lot of our heroes finding themselves unconscious, isn’t there?

  • Haha 1
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6 hours ago, IBEX said:

Time for the virgins to come charging in to save the knights in distress!

Something’s gotta give, right?  Our primary heroes are all finding themselves in quite problematic predicaments.

  • Like 1
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  • Site Moderator

In most lore, blood magic is typically bound to the dark arts. I guess Elan has never studied a lot of magic.

Who would have thought this blade would be so addictive? Another sign lack of sex can be dangerous.

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