The Dragons of Rhelawen

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7

I ran as far and as fast as I could, until I finally broke through to the sunlight, hours later. The sun was working on setting, getting cooler, yet I did not care. I ran down the trail, still shaking-- the trembling failed to subside.

The trail seemed endless, but I finally arrived at the next town over. Finnegan had promised we could take a day off, but I could not take a break. I had to get back to the castle in Avalonia, safe from all the Rhelawenian --and Drierian-- dangers.

I would run as fast as I could as long as I had to. This was one of the few times danger had affected me. However, danger had never manipulated me and played my emotions yet, until today.

I took my cloak off, still running, and shoved it into my satchel. Putting my hand on my sword, I tried to run even faster. The faster I could make it to an inn, the faster I could get some sleep, the faster I could wake up to continue my lone journey to Avalonia.

As I was running, I could not help but curse at how asinine I was. He did not have a past, he moved around a lot. Worst of all, he smelled like char and the forest. Of course dragons would smell like that. How much more oblivious could I be?

How many innocent people had he lured to their untimely deaths? I should have killed him the night he broke into my chambers.

With this new development, however, new questions were posed. The main of which dealt with why he needed the lamp at all. I checked to make sure it was still in my satchel, and it was. Another question posed was why he had not killed me earlier. He had all the opportunity in the world, yet had not. He had not even taken the lamp when he could have.

Why had he not? I asked myself. In fact, he was nothing short of a gentleman, except when he mentioned his own good looks. Too many pieces in his puzzle started to make little sense. Perhaps I had just had an exhausting day, and my brain was not functioning properly.

Nothing added up, and it was frustrating when that happened, so I focused completely on running. I was out of breath by the time I reached the village, and I finally started walking.

I walked to an inn nearby; noticing how many years this village must have lived through. It was old and beaten- up, but I tried to ignore it as I stepped inside.

"A room, please," I asked, cringing at how quivery my voice still sounded, although it had been hours since the encounter.

The man at the desk was large, tall, and made me slightly nervous. Out of habit, I rested my hand on the sword.

"Here ya go, dearie." He said, and handed me a small silver key. "On tha top floor."

I grabbed the key warily, for his sneering face became too close for comfort. "Thank you," I said quietly but politely and practically ran to the room. Unlocking the door, I noticed just how grungy the room was. At the moment, however, I ignored the thought of its cleanliness and fell on the bed.

I would not cry, I told myself. Of course, I had only known Finnegan for less than three days, but I could not help but remember the entirety of our time together. The worst part, however, was how I had been fooled. I would never allow myself to trust any strangers, but I could have sworn I could have trusted Finnegan.

As I remembered the journey, I started shaking again. I wanted to know Finnegan's past, but I had always assumed it was a past full of thievery. Not some sort of a monster of a killer.

I tried to think of something else to distract myself. Thinking of Finnegan would cause me to be even more emotionally distraught. An emotional fighter was the most vulnerable.

Thinking of nothing else was difficult, so I decided I might as well sleep it off. I put the satchel and the sword on the desk. Opening the satchel, I saw the change of clothes I had packed. Perhaps it was time for a change.

I changed into a new dress, this one the same length and pattern, but a darker lavender. After doing so, I finally fell asleep.

That night, I dreamed of short, random scenes of which played out of sequence. Watching was confusing, but they consisted of the kind things Finnegan had said or done for me, contrasting with the last moments I had seen before I had ran away. I felt as if my subconscious wanted me to trust the traitor. It almost wanted me to believe it was not his fault.

Even in my dream, however, I obviously thought it was. The scene switched to a much darker image, this time the Finnegan in dragon form. This time, however, I did not run away-- instead I stabbed him directly in the heart. He screamed the same ear- splitting scream as he had earlier, and I woke up immediately.

I looked around the room, but the scene displayed confused me even further. A sword was aimed straight at my neck, and I realized it was held by the man downstairs. He must have been checking to ensure I was enjoying the room.

If that was the case, then why was he pointing my sword at me? And why were ten other goons standing around the room, one holding my satchel?

I was so disoriented that I could not think of a plan of action. This situation was exactly how I feared: emotion caused weakness. Also, I had previously been asleep.

The leader of the band of thieves put my own sword closer to my neck. "I suppose I should say thanks, my dear." He sneered, ironically using Finnegan's words.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice slow, although I clearly saw that they wanted the lamp. "Must you end my life over an object you already possess?" 

"Of course, princess." He stated mockingly. "And you shall never be able to tell the tale."

He thrust the sword deeper into my neck and leaned close to my face. "Any last words?"

As soon as he finished the daunting question, the door burst open and a figure limped in. I thanked the seven kingdoms for a distraction, but the distraction I received was nobody I hoped to see again.

The goon turned around towards the door, sword pointed that direction with his body. I took note of his own sword, sheathed, and without hesitation, I grabbed it from his belt. He realized what I was doing, but I was too fast. He turned and I thrust the sword directly into his shoulder. Hopefully, it would slow him down a bit. I pulled the sword up, and faced two other eager opponents, looking for a good fight. It was hardly much of a fight, for I kicked both down immediately, knocking them out.

I had a few seconds to survey my surroundings. Three more robbers were running towards me, and I noticed Finnegan was engaged in a battle with the robber holding the satchel. I observed his fighting skills, which were --I had to admit-- almost incredible. Facing back to the three, I continued.

I took the last robber down, and finally it was only Finnegan and I standing. Sword in front of me, I stepped closer. "What do you wish to do to me?" I demanded, my voice dangerously low. "To kill me? To steal the lamp and murder the entire village?"

Finnegan aimed his sword at the floor, instead of me, a sign that he did not wish to kill me just yet. "Actually, Cordy, I wish to apologize."

I glared at him, deadly serious. "Do not address me by that name."

He shifted the satchel's weight, and threw it towards me. I caught it with my left hand, but did not shift my gaze or the sword's position.

I was not sure what to think. Yet again, he was demonstrating gentlemanliness. Was this some sort of battle tactic? It must have been, for it worked-- I was utterly mystified.

"Princess," he started, and saw my warning gaze. "Perhaps I should have warned you. I meant not to harm you one bit, and I am afraid you are at a misunderstanding. I only wished to keep my deal, but it seems I have gotten a bit more. Simply let me explain my predicament."

"I have known many great liars in my time, but you are above the rest. I can not trust you, and I know you are aware of why not. It was you--" I took a step forward "--your kind, that have ripped my family apart. You knew this the entire time, did you not?" I demanded, noticing the shaking of my sword starting again. I took a deep breath, hoping it would subside, yet it did not. I believe he realized this, for he dropped his sword on the floor. "I do not believe you understand the concept of never crossing paths again." I spit out, and he raised his chin.

"If I must go, Cordy, I wish you to know how deeply and truly sorry I am." He bowed his head and left the room, limping around the unconscious bodies. I noticed his leg was bandaged crudely, and I felt a stab of guilt.

Minutes after he left, I grabbed the satchel and my own sword and opened the window, climbing out before the goons could wake up.

A grassy field lay just behind the inn, and I crossed it dejectedly. Who was I kidding? Murderers had no emotions, I could not expect one to realize how betrayed I felt.

It was then when I realized something that made me stop walking. All of those goons I had defeated out of self defense. I tried not to harm any of them, but there had to be at least one casualty of mine. It was purely unintentional.

That was the answer. Unintentionally.

I had spent my entire life wishing to be the furthest thing from a royal. Many were prissy, spoilt brats who decided others fates based on previous grudges. Should I really base an opinion off of a mere grudge?

I still admitted dragons to be completely dangerous, but perhaps Finnegan's problem was completely not to his intentions.

Possibly he was one of these shape- shifters after all: perhaps his family was dead set on killing, but he had defied his family just as I had, in order to be more humane. He was a parallel to me.

I was being just like the royals I had wished not to be; I had assumed the worst in him. Without another second of hesitation, I ran to the front of the building. I was the one who must apologize.

Perhaps I would not trust him, but I had to fulfill my end of the bargain. I ran inside the inn, my boots making much too much noise for the eerie hallways.

When I finally found Finnegan, he was sitting against a wall-- palm on face-- looking horrendously defeated. He had not heard my footsteps, so I stopped about ten feet before him.

I shuffled through my satchel to find the lamp. Tossing it in his direction, he looked up at me, his face registering no emotion.

"I suppose it is I who should be apologizing," I said, my voice too hard for my liking, but I shrugged it off. "I am nothing but a hypocrite, and I judged you harshly, perhaps out of fear. That is no excuse for my behavior, however."

Finnegan looked confused, as if he thought I would not reprimand my actions. "It is alright, princess." He grabbed the lamp and stood, and I swore I saw the smallest bit of a smile. "However, this is not mine, quite yet." He threw it back to me and I caught it. "I have not fulfilled my bargain yet, that is, if you still need accompaniment."

I grabbed the top of my sword, out of habit. "I believe I do."

"Shall we move, then, princess Cordy?" He started to walk and I followed. We exited back into the cool night air, and I distanced myself a small bit. The trail seemed much shorter now.

I walked on the far left side and him in the middle of the trail. Our mismatched footsteps --and his limp-- made small noises in the dark air. "Is that why you needed the lamp?" I asked him quietly.

"The lamp is of no use to me," he responded, the familiar smile plastered on his face. I raised my eyebrow. "It is the services inside the lamp of which I require."

Ah. I knew he would give such a smart-alecky answer. "For sure it is a genuine genie's lamp, then?" I clarified, my voice continuing to be rather cold.

"Indeed, which explains how everyone in the seven kingdoms is searching for the lamp." Finnegan stated, and we kept on walking. For a while, it was awkward: although somewhat himself, Finnegan was quieter than usual. The silence became more uncomfortable than usual.

The stars shown brightly above us: casting shadows on the gravel below my feet. Finnegan's limp consumed all of the noises of the path, and I felt an even greater stab of guilt.

I had to be extremely wary from now on this journey. Perhaps he was in fact kind hearted, yet I could never completely trust him.

"Do I get to enjoy your back story now?" I asked, trying to make my voice fill the emptiness.

"Not quite, my princess." He said, rather irritatingly. Get to know one you are unsure of, my mother had once told me. How could I when he refused to share?

"I have some theories," I stated, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Theories about me?" Finnegan said, chuckling. "My lady, not to offend you, however, these theories will most likely be completely wrong."

"I am aware, but we shall see, shall we?" I asked and he shrugged.

"By all means, take a guess, princess."

"I have heard legends of a species of shape- shifters-- if you will-- who charmed travelers and lured them to their deaths. But you, seeing this was immoral and wrong, defied your family and..." I faltered, seeing the look on his face.

"Totally and irrevocably incorrect, Cordy." He announced, using his familiar chortle. "Rest assured, I am human... at least nineteen hours of the day."

I sighed. "I suppose I shall come up with a new theory then."

Finnegan dipped his head, and I turned my attention on the forest on either side. The forest was dark, as was the trail, yet not as ominous as the endless forest had been. The sky was still pitch black, for it was early before dawn.

I moved a few yards farther away from Finnegan, hoping he would fail to notice. He did notice, but did not comment.

I shuffled through my bag and pulled out the lamp. How could such an object cause so much commotion? It was elegantly carved, but I could not believe a genie existed inside. I had yet to meet a genie, however.

The lamp would make an excellent gravy boat. I shoved it back into the satchel, burying it beneath the other objects.

It felt as if silent years had passed before tendrils of morning light had begun to swirl across the horizon. I desperately wondered how many more days of walking we would endure to arrive in Avalonia, yet I refrained from asking him.

Rhelawen was proportionally gigantic compared to Driere on the east and Avalonia on the north. It was neutral in the current battle between Driere and Avalonia.

I constantly wondered exactly how I would phrase the plea for peace. Suddenly, I remembered how Finnegan grew up in Driere. Perhaps he could help convince the king. Or we would part ways before reaching Avalonia.

We walked until we reached a small lake interrupting the trail. I tried to see the opposite side, but could not, for fog shrouded most of the lake and beyond. The fog was odd, because it was a rather warm morning.

A small boat with a paddle attached was chained to a small dock. "We have to cross, princess." Finnegan said, walking on to the dock. He unattached the paddle and stepped inside the boat.

The boat was tiny. I supposed I could jump out if necessary. "Is there another way?" I asked him.

He looked surprised. "Are you afraid of something?" He asked, half- teasing, half concerned.

"Of course not," I managed and stepped into the boat. We would be sitting too close together, and I hoped if I had to jump out, my cloak would not be too heavy to swim to shore.

I reached for the paddle, but he grabbed it first, unhooking the boat from the dock and paddling into the heavy fog. It was peaceful, I had to admit, but I absolutely could not let my guard down. I ignored the peacefulness, and focused on my sword.

Neither Finnegan nor I made any attempt at conversation. I tried to turn around and see through the dense fog, but it was useless. After a few more minutes of slow paddling, we hit the hard beach of the other side. I practically jumped out of the boat, and immediately started walking away.

Finnegan caught up with me, still keeping some distance. I hoped I was walking the correct direction, but I could not see any path in the clouds of fog.

We walked further, but eventually could not distinguish where we were. Finnegan sat down on a tree stump, and I copied his actions a few yards away.

I did my best to survey the surroundings. A few tree stumps were scattered around the small line of vision I had, which meant a village was nearby, or at least a few people lived here.

It was a few more minutes before I noticed a figure coming towards us. As it neared, I realized there were more: seven figures, all moving synchronically. I stood up, pulling my sword out quietly. I aimed it in there direction. Finnegan saw what I was doing and stood up, his hand on his own sword, but he did not pull it out.

"Show yourselves!" I called out, the figures approaching nearer. I noticed the one in the middle, a tall girl with almost glowing skin, and light golden hair.

"Relax," she stated, and her voice caused me to relax.

Focus, Cordy. I told myself, and then realized what I had just called myself. Cordelia. I corrected quickly. Regaining my stance, I forced the sword out in front of her again.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"It is not of any concern," she stated. "We have not come to harm you."


The other six figures stepped forward: one looking painfully recognizable. Immediately I identified one of the sisters of mine, glowing in the eerie forest.

"Evangeline?" I whispered.