The rest of the journey to the west ranges went without an issue. The prince was truly frightened of me, and I felt as if he was starting to understand just how scared he should be. It was not as if I had lifted a hand to him since his ambush with those toadies of his, but my actions on the road against the villagers had instilled a primal fear. I could see in his eyes that he was still calculating and hoping for an escape, but he was broken. He followed my every command meekly, and as time went on even began to show an interest in who I was, and why I was doing this to him.

He understood that I was doing this under the command of his father, but not why I could not be swayed with promises of gold or titles. He tried to bribe me on more than one occasion to simply train him myself, and not to subject him to the rift. The attempted bribery went on for a week before he gave up, after that he asked questions about the Guard and the rift.

I was glad to see him taking an interest in the guard, but I knew if I told him everything that he would try all the harder to escape, and when we finally reached the ranges it would be easy enough to lose his trail. The prince would die in the attempt of course, but I did not want him to risk it.

I told him merely what he needed to know and nothing else. I told him of the sacred charge to protect the world from the creatures that rise from the rift, I told him of the creatures themselves and what they would do to the world if simply allowed to roam freely, but nothing else.

I did not tell him of the training or the loss he would experience while there. I did not tell him of the terror that would stab at his heart when finally faced with one of the creatures, and above all, I did not tell him that he would most likely die upon his first encounter with one of the beasts. Those things were better left unsaid, he should be allowed to discover them on his own, and defeat those obstacles on his own merit, not on my coaching.

At nightfall one day, when the sun was beginning to vanish over the peaks of the Western Ranges, Wulric approached me with a drawn blade.

I looked up from the campfire I had started and smiled. “Come to kill me have you mighty Prince? Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you just a few days ago?”

The prince grimaced, and a look of fear shot across his face, only to be replaced with stubbornness.

“No. I have not forgotten what you did to those men. I will never forget.”

I smiled and rose to my feet. “Why then, have you stolen one of my blades, and why are you threatening me with it?”

To my surprise the prince stood his ground, and uttered two words that took my breath away and gave me hope once more.

“Train me.”

I laughed and the smile upon my face grew even wider. “Train you little prince? Those are the words I have been waiting to hear from you for weeks now. It does not matter if you simply want to learn how to fight in order to escape me and return home, for when I have finished with you, you will be the man your father truly hoped you would be.”

And true to my word, I did train the prince. Every night when we stopped for camp I would instruct him in the basic exercises. He would chop wood with a single hand, carry water upon his head and walk through coals with bare feet. The sword was beyond his reach at that point, he first needed to learn how to simply move and how it felt to hit something harder than a practice dummy.

To his credit, the prince did not doubt me when I told him that everything he did was necessary he simply accepted it and did what I told him without any hesitation. He applied himself to my lessons with as much fervor as a man applies himself to the farm that provides his livelihood, without complaining, and without excuses.

One night, after we camped for the night among the foothills of the mountains, Wulric spoke to me.

“Ser Francis. I have a question to ask of you.”

I nodded my approval without looking up from the food upon the fire. “Why are you called ‘The Dragon Knight’?”

I looked up in surprise, and hesitated a few seconds before answering him. “Eight years ago there was a brutal warlord that rose in the Barrow hills. You may remember him, if not by name, then by rumor. At that time I had just ended my service among the Guard and began to travel across the kingdom, offering my services to local lords when I needed money and supplies. The warlord believed in an ancient prophecy, one that stated that a great warrior would rise in the east, and his anger would conquer the world. The prophecy said that this warrior was be without peer, and without equal until the dragon came to life. It was said that upon the awakening of the dragon that his empire would be shattered and that he would be disgraced and broken, but left alive. The Warlord took this to believe that he should appease the dragons, in order to keep them asleep.”

“But the dragons hadn’t been seen in centuries, why would he think that a dragon would wake?”

“Because the prophecy said so. The warlord devoted entire armies to ensuring that the dragons would remain asleep, and upon finding one of them in a barrow, spent an entire army ensuring that it never would wake. The slaughtered the dragon in its sleep, stole the treasure and continued on their path of destruction. Thousands died in those wars, especially against the city-states and the armies of your father.”

“I remember that, that was the year that my father left to lead an army against an upstart noble, and remained on the field for a year. He never spoke much about those days, I never found out what happened to his armies or to the noble.”

I nodded, stirring the thin soup that was boiling over the fire.

“There’s a reason for that and there is also a reason that my name carries equal parts of fear and of love. I came across a village on day, mere hours after the Warlord had his men rape and pillage the commoners who made their homes there, and came across a sight that still haunts my dreams.”

“What was it?”

The memories flashed across my mind, children with eyelids torn off and forced to watch their parents be eaten alive. Those very same children, imprisoned in cages with wild animals and ripped to shreds. Villagers left alive with no limbs, no sight, and no tongue, unable to cry out for help or feed themselves. Many of them forced to eat the charred remains of loved ones simply to stay alive, and the soldiers who watched and laughed.

“It doesn’t matter now Wulric, but it was the last straw for me. I swore then and there, that the Warlord would fall by my hand.”

“And your emblem is that of a dragon is it not? Is that why the prophecy was ended?”

I looked at my shield and the dragon emblazoned upon it. “I took that emblem afterwards, to remind myself of who I was, and what I had done in order to sate my rage. It is a reminder to never again become that man, and an homage to those thousands who died in that conflict.”

“Then why?”

I rolled up a sleeve, exposing my shoulder and revealing the birthmark beneath it. The prince gasped upon seeing it and drew a ward against evil with his hand. “There was a small mistake in the translation of the prophecy. The original word was ‘Drak’Un’, which they took to mean dragon. In reality, that word means ‘Cursed One’. The curse of the blood rage.”

I looked down at my shoulder and at the birthmark upon it. The red mark shone brightly in the moonlight, and it was easily seen even in the darkness. The flames from the fire gave it the illusion of movement, and if I hadn’t know better I would have sworn that it was alive.

“You see, my family hates your father. It is true that they claim the throne for themselves and that they plot against him, but there is a much deeper and more primal reason behind it, and it is the curse that we all bear.”

The prince swallowed and took a few steps back, despite himself. “So you mean, you’re a descendant of the dark one?”

I laughed, though no mirth was present in it. “No, we are not descended of his seed, though all think we are. Your father, for all his good qualities as a ruler, made one very large mistake during his war. He led the persecution of all those marked as I am, a persecution that still remains to this day. Were I to reveal this mark outside of the storm lands, I would be executed on the spot, despite my service to the realm. In any case, I have drifted from my original story.”

I took the soup off the fire, and placed it upon a log in order to let it cool while I finished my tale.

“The warlord had made an enemy of me, though he did not know it, and I proved myself as such. I began with slaughtering any group of his soldiers I came across. I knew that the Blood Rage guided me during those days, but I did not resist it, instead I embraced it and let it dictate my movements. Entire supply trains fell to my sword, and I never allowed a soldier to escape, not until I was ready.”

I paused to take a long swallow from our water supplies before continuing. “I strode into his encampment once night, after allowing a single soldier to escape my raids. I simply walked right in, and cut down everyone in my path. Women, children, elderly, it did not matter to me.” I laughed at how ridiculous it all sounded, despite my knowledge that it was the truth. “I know, it sounds impossible, one man, among thousands and I am still alive this day. I cannot claim to know why I am, or how I succeeded, but survivors of that day have spread a tale of a demon that rode upon my back and gave me strength and speed that they simply could not match. I do confess however, that I do not remember much of that night, only that I managed to make my way to the Warlord. He fought me with axe and shield, and I destroyed him. I broke his arms and his legs, and I cut his tendons on both. I crippled him and left the man for dead, and upon doing so, his host simply vanished. With their leader fallen, and the prophecy fulfilled, the name spread throughout the continent. The next day I took the emblem for my shield and embraced the name. There are very few who know the truth behind that prophecy however, and even fewer who know that I am ‘Drak’Un.”

The prince had drawn closer once more during the tale, his surprise and shock at seeing the mark had faded and it began to pass from his mind. “But what happened to the Warlord? You said you left him for dead, yet I remember my father returning in anger, unable to find the man.”

“I don’t know. I assume a few of his most loyal retainers remained with him and took his with them, but there has been no sign. Seven years have come and gone since that day, and there have not even been any rumours about his survival or his death. It is my hope that whoever brought him away simply led him to the mountains and put him out of his misery.”

With that, we ate our meal and retired for the night. It crossed my mind that I had given the prince everything he needed to get rid of me, but perhaps I was simply too foolish to take much stock in it. I believed that the prince had begun to change, and perhaps this was simply my way of letting him prove it. As we lay down in our bedrolls for the night, I couldn’t help but speak once more.

“Now you know, you know the rage that boils up inside me all the time. You know what I need to do to keep it in check. These rules I live by, they aren’t some arbitrary set of codes and laws that I simply decided to follow, they are what keeps me in check. There is a beast that lies within my body, and I cannot risk being released.”

I closed my eyes as the prince moved slightly farther away from me and closer to the fire. The slight scrabbling sounds he made seemed as loud as a cavalry charge in the quiet of the night.

Next Chapter: Chapter 8