<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>

Falnar flees Lord Terror in the believe that his days are numbered.

As a reminder, the story may contain some mature elements, but as usual I'm aiming for a PG-13 baseline.

Icon art from the Fardon reference by  FeatheryFlukes

===========

Chapter 17 - Desperate Flight

Fardon was heading to the mountain border when the other dragon drew level, making his presence known with a mournful cry.

"Falnar?!" Fardon looked surprised. "Did Terry send you after us? Has something happened...?"

"Evil!" Falnar wailed. "Terror lord evil! Treacheryness! He plan to do killing-thing to Falnar! Chop off head!"

Fardon started at him, utterly confused, and then descended on to a grassy plain, with the other two dragons following.

"I don't understand," Fardon started, bewildered. "If Lord Terror ordered your death, how did you escape? He is not a fool. If he wanted you dead, he would have trapped you, surely! He would not have taken any chances."

"Heard over," Falnar whimpered. "No... over heard? He talk to Hunters! Ask them to fetch guillotine while you not there! Big one for Big Dragon neck! I heard, I fled! Came here! Where go now?! He know of lair! Help Falnar, please! Please! Not lose head! Not head!"

Fiskul looked furious. Fardon looked doubtful, and placed a steadying hand on the Devourer. "This has got to be a mistake," he said unhappily. "Your lord killed his own Earl to keep you safe, Falnar. He risks the ire of that entire region, just to protect you. He has put a lot of energy into keeping you safe, put a lot of trust in you, wants you to be proof that dragons and the Small Races can live together.
"I refuse to believe that he would throw all that away, knowing that it would anger Taria and ruin his plans. And what of the Mystic Order? They will go crazy if he robs them of their Chosen One!"

"That... is true," Falnar said, looking anxious. "But is Earl true? Really dead? Pretending, lullaby calmness, untrue smell of safety?"

"Uh...?" Fardon tilted his head in puzzlement. Fiskul switched to Dracolingua and the two had a rapid-fire exchange which the brown dragon was unable to follow.

"I am out of practice," Fardon pointed out. "Speak Common mostly..."

"Sorrow," Falnar said, and glanced at Fiskul.

"Falnar is worried that Lord Terror might be trying to lull him into a false sense of security," the Devourer explained. "I am trying to reassure him, but..."

"Well," Fardon said. "We could fly to Lundgarten. The gate guards won't be too happy about it, but if you fear the Earl's death is a hoax, going there would be the quickest way to check."

"If Earl lives, they try to do killing-thing," Falnar pointed out cautiously.

"If they try, I will destroy them," Fiskul promised. Falnar looked at the small dragon doubtfully. "I am more powerful than I look," the Devourer added.

With a sigh, Falnar fanned his wings and took to the air, and the three dragons headed south to Lundgarten, arriving at the gates within the space of ten minutes.

"Excuse me," Fardon asked, approaching the gate. The guard captain leapt as if stung, and seized a halberd, pointing the spike at Fardon.

"Dragon!" he yelled. "Have you come to gloat? Come to crow over the death of our leader?!"

"I am a visiting dignitary on business from your overlord," Fardon reminded him curtly. "Put that thing away, or it will be the worse for you."

"He isn't here," the guard pointed out. "Now get the hell out of here! You monsters have done enough damage!"

"Is Earl gone?" Falnar asked, worriedly. "Big Dragon has lived in fear of Earl for many years..."

"Gone forever," the guard captain screamed. "Gone to the grave! And all because of you! YOU had our Earl killed with your damned prophecy!"

"Chosen prophecy?" Falnar looked confused. "Did not say about Big Dragon doing the killing-thing..."

"Guards!" the captain yelled. "Archers! If these beasts don't leave in fifteen seconds, shoot at them!"

"I shall report this to Lord Terror," Fardon said coldly, fanning his wings for takeoff.

* * *

Fardon had landed on a hill on the outskirts of Lundgarten's swampland, scattering the sheep. Usually he would have been more careful to avoid spooking them, but the business at the city gates had not left him feeling particularly generous towards the locals.

In the distance, a jet engine droned. Fardon glanced, worried, and spotted a jet flying sedately on its way. For a moment he had feared a Hunter attack of some kind, but whoever the aircraft belonged to, it was clearly leaving Arstom's airspace and he relaxed.

"What now, Falnar?" he said. "Those guards were all set to murder us over the death of their precious Earl. Was that enough to convince you?"

"Almost," Falnar said. "Guards either true, or very good actors. But they tried to do killing-thing! Lingering doubts... What if plot to do killing-thing to Falnar...?"

"There were two prophecies," Fardon pointed out. "One, where the Chosen One would die this tenday, unless the Order could prevent it. The other prophecy was that the Earl, unless he chose wisely, would be killed by a dragon this same tenday, and that you would be the cause his death."

"I?" Falnar looked horrified. "I did not want Earl to die! Just wanted him to leave I alone!"

"The die was cast," Fardon said. "The Order, and Lord Terror, prevailed, and the Earl was indeed killed by a dragon, when Lord Terror struck off his head. It could have ended peacefully for both of you, but it did not. And that is why the guards are so upset... Because the prophecy mentions you, and they blame you for it."

"Sorrow!" Falnar looked mortified.

"I will inform his lordship," Fardon said. "Once the situation is cleared up. Though him executing the guards too will not help calm things down..."

Suddenly, a massive shadow passed over them. Fardon craned his neck to see Lord Terror circling overhead.

"Holy gods," he said, staring in shock as the white and yellow dragon descended. "Terry must be desperate. He's in full form!"

"Falnar!" the dragon called out. "Falnar! Thank the gods I've found you! Are you okay...?"

"Keep way!" Falnar hissed, spreading his wings and trying to look bigger. He emitted a warning jet of flame, startling the dragon-lord as he came into to land.

"Falnar," the white dragon whined. "Please come back! I am lord of this realm... Do not make me have to beg! I need you back in the capital!"

"To de-capital?" the green dragon snarled. "No! No guillotine! No killing-thing! Falnar prophecied to die this tenday, and tenday is not yet over!"

"I'm sorry," Terry protested. "I fucked up. I am not plotting your death, Falnar. You would be a perfect example of a dragon citizen and I want that so badly..."

"Yet you conspired with the Hunters as soon as Fardon's back was turned," Fiskul retorted stonily. "Is it true that you asked them to bring a dragon-guillotine?"

"Yes," Terry said, lowering his head. "But it's not what it looks like! It wasn't for Falnar!"

"So it was for Fardon?!" Fiskul grew menacingly large, spooking Falnar almost as much as Terry.

"Are you crazy?!" the dragon-lord snapped fearfully. "He's a diplomat! He has immunity! You think I want to start a war with Taria?! Fuck that! I want their help getting this project underway, and Falnar's help too!"

"Don't tell me the guillotine was for yourself," Fiskul growled, shrinking back down slightly.

"Let me explain," Terry protested. "You can translate this for Falnar afterwards if he needs it. The Hunters came here, desperate to try and retain their existing trading relationship with Arstrom. They had heard that I was making overtures to Lord Varl, and feared that I would cut them off to curry favour with your lord. Which I nearly did.
"But they were so terrified of this, that I humoured them. I laid out a series of strict conditions, and threatened to execute the lot of them if they tried to hunt dragons in my realm. And yet, they accepted those terms. I already told Fardon this. I still don't know what they want, but since they were desperate for trade..." he shrugged his wings.

"Go on," Fardon said, coldly.

"Atlantia is becoming a technology hub, as you alluded to last night," Terry said, glancing at Fardon. "Arstrom has long purchased machinery from them, since before I took over. And yes, even under my watch, we have acquired the occasional anti-dragon weapon, just in case. Taria have theirs too, do they not? In case Thurr invaded?"

"That's true," Fardon agreed sadly. "And so, while I was gone, you started discussing trade with their envoy, knowing that it would seem suspicious if I overheard?"

"It would have been embarrassing," Terry said stiffly, craning his neck and looking away from the diplomat. "It was necessary, at least to ask. But it would make you suspicious, maybe threaten the pact with Lord Varl.
"It would have raised awkward questions. It has raised awkward questions. And since I have already been embarrassed, I will explain. I fear losing my two greatest prizes more than I fear losing my dignity... An alliance with Lord Varl, and a dragon settler in the capital of Arstrom," he added miserably. "If Falnar settles happily, others will join him. But if I make an enemy of him, it will cripple the project.
"I have been here for nearly thirty years," he keened, throwing back his head briefly. "Falnar may have survived for centuries hiding in a cave, but I'm not like that! I'm not a loner! I need the company of other dragons! I can't wait another thirty years!"

"I see," Fiskul said, having returned to their normal, diminutive appearance. "That may be, but you have neatly avoided explaining the guillotine."

"I got side-tracked," Terry sighed. "Let me finish explaining. If Falnar is going to settle in the capital, it follows that I will need infrastructure for him, and for others. Buildings to live in, amenities. But as more dragons arrive, there is more risk of getting a bad egg, and I need to be ready for that possibility.
"If, Great One forbid it, one of my new settlers goes on a full-blown rampage, I will need to be able to do justice upon them, though I sincerely hope it doesn't come to that. The Small Races will expect nothing less, or else I may have a rebellion on my claws. If I am deposed, the stupid cycle I am trying to break here will only continue! Don't you see?
"So. Planning ahead, I tentatively enquired about obtaining a guillotine from the Hunters, while their envoy is still here. Most dragons consider decapitation to be the most honourable form of death, and speaking as a dragon, I would rather mete that fate out as I currently do with the Small Races, than have to deliver a kill-shot to the head like a Hunter. Though to be clear, I can do that and I have. None of us are innocent, but some are monsters who have to be stopped.
"I planned to ask the same of Fardon afterwards, and compare quotes - mention in that context that I had asked the same of Atlantia. I know Taria uses the guillotine, and if I have to slay a fellow dragon, I want it to be humane and dignified. I would rather use a proven design imported from another realm, than to start from basic principles. If my engineers get something wrong, we risk inflicting the indignity of a botched execution upon a fellow dragon, and I do not want that."

"So, I asked the Hunter lady. She got the wrong idea, and assumed that I wished to dispose of a wayward dragon right now, and offered a mobile guillotine to effect that. Falnar, it seems, had arrived early, and overheard this part of our conversation. He panicked, assuming the worst before I had a chance to correct her misunderstanding, and I was forced to pursue him in order to correct his misunderstanding.
"I am deeply sorry to have caused this mess, and I will understand if this incident has shaken Falnar's trust in me, and likely your own as well. I cannot very well stop you from reporting this incident to Lord Varl, but I beg you understand that it is all a terrible misunderstanding - and to appreciate that I have risked compromising my long-held disguise in order to catch up to Falnar and try to explain. And that if he does leave... I will have to explain my error to the Mystic Order of Thea."

"This makes sense," Fardon said. "It is easy to forget that you are trying to build up a variety of infrastructure which Taria already has, all at once. I am willing to accept that this is a simple misunderstanding, and I will characterise it as such in my report. But the rest is between you and Falnar."

"I think I understand, I," Falnar said. "Can you tell in dracolingua, so I certainly?"

Fiskul and Terry glanced at each other.

"You do it," Fiskul said. "I want to see if it comes out the same."

"To see if my story remains consistent?" Terry rolled his eyes. "Very well."

Taking a breath, he repeated his explanation again in the dragon tongue. Fiskul and Falnar both looked somewhat satisfied afterwards.

"Falnar will return with," the green dragon said. "But cautious. May leave if frightened again."

Terry sighed with relief. "I understand," he said. "And I thank you, Falnar. I cannot thank you enough. I hope to prove to you that I can be trusted, however long that takes. And in my defence, this was not made easier by you running away. If you had waited a moment longer instead of fleeing, we could have talked this out."

"True," Falnar admitted. "Perhaps both are fault here."

"And I will need a favour," Terry said. "I will reward you for it, but my leaving in true form will cause rumours. I do not wish to fly back to the castle as a dragon. If I become small again, could I ride on your neck?"

"That also trust exercise," Falnar pointed out. "Very well. Let us do."