Through Fire and Shadow: Epic Fantasy - Progression Fantasy by R.M. Schultz

Author:R.M. Schultz [Schultz, R.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sky Sea and Sword Publishing
Published: 2024-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

27

CYRAN ORENDAIN

The door of the cliff cell swung open, and the gaoler glared at Cyran as he said, “The Dragon Queen again requested me to ask if you’ve decided to meet with her. I personally do not know why she wastes her time or gives two rat shits about you, but I must fulfill her demands.”

Cyran glanced at Ineri, who barely peeked through a slit in her furs. Vyk’s jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth. Cyran leaned closer to them and whispered, “I could try to find a way for us to escape, or talk our way out of here. We have no other options, and none on the horizon. If we remain as we are now, we will never leave this place, and soon, we will surely die from the elements.”

“As long as she doesn’t turn you against us and Belvenguard.” Vyk shook his head, flinging bits of frost from his beard, animosity and suspicion ripe in his words.

Ineri’s eyes closed, but she only shivered, coughed, and nodded.

“She will never be able to turn me against my people.” Cyran patted Ineri’s back and slowly rose. “I despise her more than anything in Cimeren.” He faced the gaoler. “I will meet with the Dragon Queen.”

The gaoler cursed under his breath before ushering Cyran out the doorway. A dozen soldiers waited in the hall beyond, all of their spear tips angled at the dragonknight.

Damn. Finding a way to escape from Northsheeren would not be easy.

The gaoler pointed at a half-dozen of the infamous onyx guard, who waited in the shadows ahead, and those guard led Cyran onward while the soldiers’ spears and footsteps followed at his back. They wound through halls and up several stairways before stopping outside an oaken door. One of the onyx guard rapped his knuckles against the door, then opened it and marched into the chamber beyond. The other guard followed the first and made way for Cyran to enter.

Once Cyran stepped inside the chamber, the onyx guard lined the wall near the doorway and watched. The Dragon Queen waited in the distance, and three men—one in a silver robe, one in a mauve robe, and a taller man with a scarred face and eye—stood nearby.

“Young dragonknight.” The tallest man waved Cyran forward, and Cyran tentatively trod across the stone floor. “I welcome you to Northsheeren. I am the king regent, Oomaren.”

Hate smoldered in Cyran’s heart. This man was the epitome of evil. If there were anyone viler than the Dragon Queen, it was a king of Murgare. Such men found their way to the throne only through heinous deeds.

“Sirra Brackenglave, the Dragon Queen of Murgare, has spoken highly of your abilities.” Oomaren paced around Cyran. “I must admit that I am doubtful, but I would like to be proven wrong.”

“Who are your friends?” Cyran eyed the robed men.

“My orator, Astor.” He pointed at the man in silver robes and then to the one in mauve while adding, “And my conjuror, Luminsteir.”

Cyran stared at the king as an awkward silence lingered.

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