YouSeeDragonGOD/?

YouSeeDragonGOD/?

By: Zairo

The cold has been really getting to me recently. Every night I’ve spent stationed here, I’ve been waking up from sudden jolts in the night. Being so far north away from all of civilization has had a bit of an emptying effect on my mind, although the old folks here do help to pass the time. That just leaves me for days on end, mostly alone with my thoughts, and all of it has gotten quite monotonous. The winter months are upon us, which brings even more isolation as the blizzards can often last for weeks with no end in sight to them. Although more snow at the citadel gives me something to do at least. I’ve got a lot of shoveling cut out for me that’s for sure. I really wish the capital would allow me to be accompanied by at least one other Golden Guard, but I won’t let the isolating cold get to me.

To be the Golden Guard stationed at the northernmost Frostbourne Citadel means one of two things. Either it's a punishment or you’re just flat out unlucky – I’m the latter. The last Golden Guard watching over this place drunkenly slipped off the wall and was gobbled up by an angry magical beast. A terrible accident that has left me to take charge of this depressing place. No wonder that last guy dared himself to roam the edges of the wall, because this place is so mindlessly boring.

Frostbourne is the Citadel most commonly used as a ward for geriatric; old people, mainly those who have begun to lose their senses as their age has continued to worsen. So I’m surrounded by grandmas and grandpas with dismal hearing or poor eyesight. They say some of the strangest things though, like how the Dragon God, Zenith flies through the skies of Elysium, or how Dragons walk among the streets within the kingdom’s cities. To me all of it sounds a bit evangelical. The folks have been told the teachings of Zenith all their life, seeing their God as they grow older might just be a good thing to keep their minds more calm and clear.

I was never one to be too deep into the practices of the Zenith religion. I grew up on a farm, tending to the animals and crops. My father taught me how to do mostly everything a farmhand needed to do. While my mother often made trips up to the nearby citadel to practice. She often regaled the old stories and teachings of Zenith to us during dinner.

“It's been nearly two-hundred years since the magical beasts last breached the city, ever since that day we’ve lived in peace and great innovation. The legends tell of a holy light cast down upon the Elysian fields, our God, Zenith, gave us the protection of the great black steel walls to forever free us from the wrath of the magical beasts. With the presence of our God seen by the world, the era of magic has blessed us with magicians popping up left and right, our world has grown much stronger within the embrace of his walls!”

I always loved my mother’s retellings of these tales, she always gave them a fantastical feeling. Like the world offered so much more than what we had here in our little small town farm. But her description of our God, Zenith always stuck with me.

He was described as an all powerful king above all creatures. A massive onyx Dragon that no magical beast would ever think of defeating in combat. Just his presence alone has kept us safe within the walls of Elysium, the walls he created to keep us protected. I always wished that one day I could be like the Dragon, someone so strong and so noble no monster would even think about tearing down the world I love so much as they would have to go through my strength to perform such a feat. This desire to protect brought me on the journey that has led to this moment today, as one of the kingdom’s protectors, a certified Golden Guard legionnaire.

Even without believing in the deeper depictions of the Dragon God, Zenith I can’t say I haven’t had my own share of strange sightings while working in this place. One early morning I awoke to hear the footsteps of heavy metal boots trudging through the citadel’s rooms. I came running to investigate but nothing seemed to be amiss. Later that same day I checked the logs to see if any legionnaire or journeying pilgrim visited the site, but there was no word of anyone’s arrival. I decided to chalk it up to my young senses being dulled from my poor sleep and the cold temperatures getting even colder. Or perhaps maybe a magical beast on the outside was seeping in an arcane fog that could have been sapping us with exhaustion to hurt us within the citadel in secrecy. But that’s probably me just complaining, they don’t call this citadel’s work the worst for nothing. I imagine many of my colleagues who’ve found themselves here had similar sightings, maybe they even saw stranger things.

~        ~        ~

One late evening an old man holding himself upright with the help of the citadel’s walls approached me. While looking forward but not quite into my eyes, I could tell this man was a bit confused but also giving off a slight amount of excitement with each word he relayed to me. He said he heard something, a sound coming from the bathroom, some sort of knocking. He mentioned sliding his ears over every surface in search of this strange sound but coming up with no answers. And as his search continued, he explains that a vision of the Dragon appeared to him, it told him to return to his bed and rest. He spoke these words with a shaky smile although looking a bit frazzled by the whole experience. Though I could not mistake the joy in his words. It seems he truly believed this odd vision he witnessed was his God, Zenith, the great Dragon he’s worshipped all his life.

It was definitely hard for me to believe it. Nearly every month or so another person here has some sort of vision, a so-called divine experience. After he finished telling me the ghost story, the old man continued on with his regularly scheduled confusing nonsensical ramblings.

Some of the old folks that were transferred here were brought here due to incidents. Apparently they became erratic in their own homes, spouting mad speeches, or plotting anti-government conspiracies. They’d say things that would bring fear to their neighborhoods, and their consistency with these dips into insanity only worsened as they remained around people. Frostbourne was a ward meant for rehabilitation, however it was often the last resting place for many senior citizens.

Nothing I could do to change the outcome of their mental degradation but be there to support them when they needed it. I was no mage, just a legionary with pride in my strength and abilities. Out of thirty-nine remaining cadets I was one of ten chosen to be made a member of the Golden Guard, a royal legionnaire and protector of this great kingdom, Elysium.

There are three levels to being a protector of Elysium. At the lowest level there is the Adventurer Legion, those that believe leaving the safety of the walls in search of a brighter future is the way we should be living our lives. I disagree with their actions, but agree with the sentiment. However I could not allow myself, friend, or even my worst enemy to join up with those Adventurers. The amount of legionnaires that leave and then never return from their expeditions outside the walls is dreadfully staggering, usually they are left with half the people they went out with, it's a nightmarish sight to behold. Due to the circumstances of traveling outside the walls they usually can’t even return with the bodies of the fallen legionnaires, unless they may fall victim to a beasts themselves. They just have to run for their lives, no time to grieve or else be eaten alongside their fallen brethren. Even after so many expeditions they’ve only managed to uncover the lands outside Elysium and how they are not built for our survival.

The second level and largest one by far is the Watcher Legion. The Watchers protect everywhere within the safety of the walls, from acting as town guards to performing public services to civilians all over. Most often a legion of Watchers will be a permanent group set in one of the many cities scattered about the kingdom. Even without them there to watch, crime is at an all time low. So most of the time I hear the Watchers work extra hard around their communities just to keep busy.

The third and most exclusive rank is to be a part of the Golden Guard Legion. This prestigious legion stands guard within the capital and the seven citadels built upon the walls that surround the outer edges of the kingdom. We are the best of the best, and are treated with that respect. All the citadels are well stocked and fully furnished temples, good to last a village of people for a whole month without the need to restock. I can eat and rest knowing if a threat ever did arise I would be able to swiftly handle it.

But nothing ever happens. Because nothing ever could happen. Very rarely does a magical beast capable of flight fly over the walls of Elysium and when they do they often flee before any true damage is done, but even though some can fly I’ve never seen one or heard of one flying over a citadel. Besides those incredibly rare occurrences, we’re set for life. The great black steel walls that protect this kingdom are special, a gift delivered by God himself. Besides their divine origin, the walls repel all evil, launching the deadly beasts who try to climb it off back into the wilderness they came from. All the while we can watch and lob cannonballs at the defenseless man-eating beasts as they scramble away, or even as they stupidly approach the walls again until they are no more.

I helped the old man to bed, tucking him in and blowing out the candle, only to be left with a bit of wonder myself. What if – what if there is something in the bathroom? He mentioned knocking, maybe there is a mouse within the floor. He looked like a blind man, perhaps his hearing has become heightened because of his newfound reliance on it.

Wait, but no that can’t be so, the floor is stone and a mouse would likely freeze in these temperatures. Maybe in a crawlspace or basement room? But then again the citadel is built all upon one single floor, all the branching rooms and bedrooms all sit on one floor to ease the travel needed for the older folks. So it really makes me wonder how or where that sound could have been made.

This brings me to now, it's late but I can’t sleep. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to do a little investigating. The sound could just be the old man’s heart beating heavily through his body, but it's not like I have anything more productive to be doing. Hopefully a little wandering around will help send me into a deep restful sleep. And besides there’s no such thing as ghosts.

~         ~        ~

The large double wooden doors to the bathroom squeaked open, revealing the large bathtub carved into the stone floor of the room, a toppled mess of rolled out towels, and a few extra candles still alight giving the room a more relaxing presence. The room was still damp with the steam from the old man’s bath time. But the whole room was entirely ordinary. I don’t really know what I was expecting to find in this old bathroom, but the lack of something interesting made me feel a little let down.

With that ‘investigation’ I felt like I worked myself up enough to head to bed. As I turned to shut the bathroom doors behind me I heard something. Not a drip of water or the creaking of an old man wandering about, but a–

Knock-

It gave me a slight pause. There’s hundreds of things that noise could have been, the citadel is an old building after all. I could feel my heart rate decreasing as I came up with reasons as to how that sound could have occurred.

Knock-

That noise again?! Maybe there is an animal in the wall? A magical beast that’s come to devour us? But then after another thirty-seconds I heard it happen again, and again, and again.

Knock-

Knock-

Knock-

Sometimes the knock was thirty-seconds after the previous one, sometimes it was twenty-nine or more like thirty-two seconds. This discrepancy makes me believe it not to be some sort of secret government magic secretly installed here without my knowing, but an even greater likelihood of it being an evil magical beast. Something alive and most certainly deadly.

Suddenly my body began to shake, I’ve never felt like this before. When I think back to training I never actually had to fight a magical beast. I’ve heard stories though, none of them were pleasant ones. Those stories were always about a group encountering just one ravenous beast. It never was about a one on one encounter like what’s happening right now. Though thinking about it, the reason there’s no stories like my predicament is likely there’s no one alive that has lived to tell them.

The thought passed my mind, I could run from this place. Take my broomstick and fly faraway. Maybe I will be able to reach the capital before dawn arises; if I fly away quickly and carefully, then while I’m there I can call for backup and never have to be stationed here ever again. But what if the reason the beast hasn’t attacked this place yet is because I’m here, protecting it? If I leave these old people they will have nothing protecting them besides the very walls of the citadel this monster likely dwells within. Is it waiting for me to leave them? Trying to scare me out of my position?

My eyes pass over the bath tub still filled with now lukewarm water. The knocking continues to thud out after each interval of an average of thirty seconds. I found myself grabbing the magic staff used for recycling the water. A magical item created using a gemstone of aquamarine, it had the power to absorb and reproduce small quantities of water. The invention is one of the few good things to come out of the Adventurer Legion, their missions have led to our kingdom gaining all sorts of gemstone powered tools, making so many of our daily tasks so much simpler.

Placing the magic tool in the bath water, it began to swirl together into an inverted rising stream, gathering up into the spout of the aquamarine rod. The crystal began to emit a slight blue glow as all the water was swallowed up.

Stepping into the now moist but empty tub I cup my hands around my ears and lay them to the ground to listen in.

KNOCK-

The knocking is much clearer now. I wanted to write it off. I wanted to go back to bed, but now… I really don’t think this could be my mind playing tricks on me. The knocking was coming from under the tub. This citadel was built on a slab of stone, there is nothing meant to be underneath it. I felt a headache coming on. Was I really going to deface the citadel on the hunch that there is a magical beast plotting to eat us all?

If I am wrong it's sacrilege, worse I might be suspended as a Golden Guard legionnaire. To throw away everything I’ve worked for, for something that is probably just a hallucination… That’s madness, I’m going crazy! It’s me, there is nothing there. Once again I found myself stepping away towards the exit until it sounded again.

KNOCK-

As if right on queue another knock broke my deliberation, this time much louder than before. With little to no ideas as to what was happening to me I called back to it. “Hello!? Hello!! Hey!!! I-I’m a Golden Guard you hear me!?”

There was no voice to respond to mine. Just more ominous knocking every thirty seconds. So in my delusion I knocked back, hoping for a different response. I don’t even know what I wanted to hear at this point. Was it human? Monster? Alive? Dead? An answer to this was all I wanted now, this craze had to end for my sake alone.

As my hand knocked, after only five seconds it knocked back. I knocked twice in quick succession. It mimicked that as well. Three knocks in succession, I heard three back to back.

It’s smart enough to mimic me, the implication of that scares me. As far as I am aware, all magical beasts are killing machines, they don’t react like this. The moment a beast sets its sights on a human or rather any living being it hunts it down until there’s nothing living left of it. They aren’t particularly smart creatures, but monsters that only know how to be predators. There has never been a known instance of a legionnaire successfully taming a magical beast. Everyone that has tried usually was devoured a few weeks into their attempts at domesticating them. These creatures are not our friends. Which means this noise isn’t a magical beast.

There is no record of a basement being built in this citadel. I would know, I’ve scoured the old blueprints for this place as means of keeping my mind from dying of boredom. As I’ve said before there is nothing under this place, nothing meant to be at least. This citadel is a ward for those of older age, and those who’ve fallen ill. This is a holy site, although the farthest and least traveled one it was still a place of worship.

This is a good place, a happy one. So why, why do I feel-like this. The hair on my arms is standing straight up like daggers, and I feel my teeth chattering with cold uncertainty, and this burning feeling that something horribly wrong is happening right beneath my feet is poisoning my mind. Nothing about this feels right to me.

Before this night, I have never once felt unsafe here. Even at the very edge of the kingdom right next to bloodthirsty monsters far below me, everything was sunshine and rainbows. Cold but quiet and simple. It wasn’t a hectic job but it was easy, and even though I would complain about it I really do enjoy it.

Rising to my feet all I can feel now is this ominous sense of dread. At this very moment it feels to me like this kingdom, a place I’ve always known I could feel at peace living within, has now shattered into a place of complete unrest. The only way I could cure this feeling would be to uncover the cause of the knocking.

If it's a beast then at least I will be able to know now. It has to be a beast, it really has to be a beast. Because if it isn’t then there’s only one other thing it could be and that shouldn’t be an option on the table.

~         ~         ~

 I left the bathroom in a hurry, almost crashing into the door to my office. There leaned up against the desk was my legionnaire issued hammer and great nails. They were weapons mainly used during Adventurer expeditions to slay magical beasts. It was a battle maneuver made in groups of two, one would wield the great nail and the other would wield the hammer. The legionnaire would fly atop their broomstick to spear the great nail into the beast, allowing for the second hammer wielding legionnaire to bludgeon the great nail even deeper into the monster’s body. It wasn’t a flawless strategy, but the damage it dealt to the magical beasts was severe enough to thwart the intense threat ever so slightly, giving humanity its first ever leg up on the monsters besides the black steel walls that surround our kingdom.

I haven’t needed to use them since training, I could feel the rust of my technique shuddering over me as I picked them up. I was always more of a great nail wielder, my dexterity with it made me stick out well above my other cadets. Muscle memory was at least giving me a little confidence in my abilities, lifting up that nail felt like returning to an old hobby, one that I never should have left in the first place. But the need for battling with these weapons found no real use within the walls. It was very common to see most Watcher or Golden Guard legionnaires lose the skills and abilities they nurtured in the cadet corps that got them into that position in the first place.

Now with hammer and nail I returned to the bathtub and angled the nail down at the ground. Holding the great nail still I look forward, my eyes catching the bronze symbol of Zenith hanging from the wall. I can't say for certain if what I’m doing makes me some kind of heretic but at the very least I’ll let my worries be known to my lord. Calling out to the holy symbol I apologize. “I’m sorry Zenith, my lord. It was never my intention to deface the citadel upon my arrival here. But I believe someone or something is in trouble below this place. I-it’s hard for me to believe it myself, but it is my job as a Golden Guard of Elysium, to protect its people.”

With my guilt subsided I raise the hammer to the sky, and slam it down upon the nail.

CLANK-

It seems that the rusty feeling I had in my skills was my imagination, my precision still holds true. The strike of the nail pierced its way into the stone nicely. The nail now stuck within the stone slab. I raised the hammer again for another strike.

CLANK-

The hammer hits a second time, this one creating greater cracks in the stone slab. The nail continues to dig deeper into the stone.

CLANK-

Again, cracks now extend out to all corners of the stone tub. The knocking has all but ended now, being silenced out by my own consecutive hammer swings.

CLANK-

Then with the fourth strike, the floor shattered and crumbled beneath me. Falling apart under the pressure of my own strength it revealed to me that my suspicions were correct. Hidden covered up by the tub’s stone bottom was a set of stairs descending down a dark curving path.

I now felt myself a mix of triumphant success as to finding a secret room. But also the dreadful question of ‘why is this here?’. The knocking that drove me to reach this place could be heard again, further into this place, into the darkness. Down the staircase, the sound echoed through the pitch black descent. There was no reason to turn back now, if I did that then this whole destruction of government property would have been meaningless.

This place hidden below the citadel did not feel like the place I was just in. There was a sort of darkness to this stairwell, like every step deeper away from the holiness above brought me closer to hell itself. Soon after turning the corner of the stairwell, it felt like I was walking down through an endless dark space. The only light to guide my way being a simple candle providing me more comfort than it was ever meant to bring. But the knocking continued breaking the silence of this evil place, still in time, every thirty or so seconds. like a call beckoning me to this strange place. Every step deeper felt like I was leaving my God behind me, leaving the safety of the world I felt could protect me completely. But curiosity pushes even the most scared to do things they thought never possible. There was no way I would turn around, not yet and not ever.

My persistence paid off, as turning another bend in the stairwell a white light started to find its way into my path. The light almost made me feel safe. That was until I saw the place it came from.

Stepping into the light, the room was filled with sounds of distress. Cages lined every wall of this cold dungeon. It was almost like a prison designed as something similar to a panopticon. I was at the top floor but there were two more rows of cells that lined the narrow pathways. The cages were filled with hundreds of people, old people. And then there was the knocking again, the noise echoed across the giant room.

Before fear and before anger, the first thought that came to me was the need to save these people. Approaching the first gate to my right I found there was no lock on it. Shaking the bar in frustration it actually rattled a lot. To my surprise the gates carried no lock, the weight of them being strong enough to keep the old people from ever thinking about escape. My intensive training to become a legionnaire made this a simple task, lifting the bars from the ground all the way above my head.

“Hey, I’m a legionnaire with the Golden Guard, I’ve come to rescue everyone. Please allow me to bring you to the surface.”

But despite my efforts they only retreated deeper into their cell, crowding closer to each other. Did they not wish for freedom, why? How could they not, I thought. Being stuck within this horrid place could not be better than the outside world?

“Please, there’s a warm citadel up above this place, plenty of room for all of–”

CRUNCH-

CRUNCH-

The sound of metallic footsteps caught me mid sentence. These old people were wearing simple tunics, they didn’t have shoes on. They didn’t make that noise. Turning to my left then to the right there was nothing, nothing but… something?

Small patches of snow scattered around the edges of the prison revealed the heavy footprints of what could only have been a massive armored knight. The footprints looked as if they were approaching me?! But I couldn’t see what was making them, there was nothing here, just me and these imprisoned people. I couldn’t help but fear the worst was coming.

There was a sudden pain in my stomach as I felt my body crack then get launched off from the platform down two stories to the bottom of the prison. I felt my body breaking as my shoulder slammed into the corner of the freezing stone floor. I could feel my legs splitting, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get them to move. The attack left me disoriented, my breathing was all over the place and my limbs were not in working condition. My arms were the only thing keeping me grounded in this awful situation.

Looking back up there, there was nothing, no one was there. I could see nothing at all and yet something clearly hit me. Clutching my stomach, my hand recoiled as there was too much blood, all feeling in my legs was fading. Somehow despite the distance I was dropped I still had my great nail with me. My eyes were blurry, slowly being clouded by a bleeding head scrape. But through the blood red haze I thought I could make out a blurry silhouette.

Standing at the top of the prison walkway was a looming beast-man in armor. Its armor radiating an evil blood red glow, the towering figure almost looked like a depiction of the Dragon God, Zenith. Its crimson tusks were burned red with its strength, wielding some sort of polearm.

“Oh Zenith!” Those were the only words that left me. A harbinger of God has come to take me away from this dreary world… But why was it here? Why wasn’t it saving these people? Why am I bleeding so much?

There was no way that monster was something meant to protect us. The screams were exploding in absolute horror now beyond the cage it was standing in front of. That beast was no God, no hero to our people. He was the Devil.

The dragon knight leapt from the highwalls of the prison landing just a few feet in front of me. It landed with no sound despite the mass of its monstrous armor, moving with grace despite its wrathful appearance. Each step it took closer to me, I tried dragging myself further away. But my body in its broken state could not outspeed it. The dragon knight inched closer for every inch I began dragging behind.

I felt my body growing colder as I crawled out onto a flat of snow. This is not the way it should have to end. To die in such a terrible place like this. At the hands of a monster stealing the appearance of my God.

Looking down at the ground behind me, cloaked in the black shadow of the monster, my red blood had stained the pure white of the snow beneath me. The sound of the knight’s footsteps slowly begins to ring out in my head. A sound so wrong, so terribly wrong and yet I recall hearing it. Strange sounds in the citadel, invisible to my eyes but not to all. Metal footsteps could be heard clamoring through the halls. But nothing ever happens.

The sound becomes disorienting as hundreds of cries and screams of horror rattle through my ears. I feel the madness growing with every step the dragon knight takes until. Everything goes quiet.