Rag’thoran — An ancient beast born in the crimson flame once terrorized insignificant life. A flapped of its wings soared in the sky scattered the clouds. It took all seven luminaries and ten thousand knights to put the ancient dragon down from ever reaching the sky again. Upon its death, it turned the land into the image of hell for seven days. Its flesh ruptured into millions of cinders, dragging the life of the saviors together. Undying crimson hellfire burned the terrain. Blood painted the sky. Heaven continued to shed its tears. Now the ancient dragon remained forever in slumber as the nature gradually reclaimed its place.

The wind whistled over the layered stone wall. Wild grasses climbed over the ancient beast once trampled over them. The peak of its summits knocked on the door to the heaven. The horses pulled away from their masters as they ventured close to the entrance.

“Release them. Let them return to the wild,” Vincent ordered.

One by one, their riders released their reins. The horses bolted away from the area without wasting another second. Luther inspected the area while await for his men to prepare themselves to dwell inside the stomach of the dragon. Not a single creature lived nearby. Even the birds turned away from approaching close.

“Once we’re inside, the heaven won’t be able to watch over us,” Hartwin said beside him.

Luther placed a hand on his heart. Faith.

“Then I’ll put my faith in the miracle that follows you.“

The knights readied their torches. With the silver bell in his hand, Luther took the first step inside. They threaded the darkness close to each other. Hollow whispers slipped past them. The light of their torches barely light up the path. Luther rang the bell as he led the knights. The sound coming from the bell resonated through the hallway to the chambers hidden behind the wall, showing him the path.

“They’re not coming out,” someone whispered. “It’s too dark. I can’t even tell where to go.”

“Why? Ready to run back off your milady’s bosom?”

The knights chuckled. Two of them earned a smack, each behind their heads. “Quiet!” Vincent scolded in a low voice.

Luther locked on the darkness before him. No mortal ventured through the entire chambers of Dragon’s Slumber. Lumina Cathedral ordered several subjugations to clear out the drifters within this mountain. Every subjugation drew maps of the charted areas. With each finishing map differing from the previous one. Some thought the ancient dragon was playing a foul trick on them. But it was actually the drifters. Through their accursed gift, they shifted the darkness inside of the mountain. For their own survival, they meticulously placed traps and hidden chambers everywhere. Nobody knows the areas well than those who worship the darkness itself.

While the abyss stared back at him, Luther only obeyed to the faint chime. It showed him fifty metres of the rough vision of his surrounding. They’ve passed some concealed chambers along the way and found nothing waiting for a strike. It was going smoothly until they reached a spacious section and the bell picked up hundreds of eyes smiling upon their arrival.

“Captain?“ Vincent noticed he stopped walking.

A torch dropped to the ground. Its flame spread like veins, illuminating the chamber from the floor to the walls. The new light revealed the faces of their foes. Red blood eyes smiled at them. Flesh of their formal selves melted and unraveled the sinister black soul inside them. Their hands held old broken swords and spears coated in their tainted shadow.

“Protect the captain!“ Hartwin ordered. Their backs against each other, forming a circle around their captain. Blades drew out. Instead of cowering back to their defeat, the knights held an undying light on their faces. They inched forward while the sinners inched back to their shelter behind them.

Luther raised the bell. A chime from its metal body vibrated the darkness. The sinners, confused by the sudden melody, turned quiet. His soul whispered a chant. His gifted blue eyes shone bright. Sinners who locked gaze with him shuddered.

Oh Father of Light, I ring the bell of morning star.

My feeble mortal vessel brings you a message.

Hear their prayers. Let none of their words be silenced.

Soon he heard the singing bells. His voice reached the heaven. The bell gleamed in a blue light. Carvings of white valley flower from the blades of each knight illuminated. The miracle prayer of his light reached the heaven. They granted his prayers an answer.

“The heaven heard us! Let the will of our people sound the hearts of our foes!” Vincent shouted. The knights followed up with a shout.

Their blades clashed with the shadows. Knights left none to break through their defense. A fatal slash from the blade removed the sinners into nothingness as they should be. Luther remained in the middle. He didn’t have to draw his sword out. The miracle he brought upon his men guided their blades to judge the sins of their enemies. As the sinners committed atrocious sins to replace their mortal flesh into an immortal shadow, an ordinary weapon can never harm their newfound vessel. You can never touch or harm a shadow. Only the light can judge their sins as they formerly came from the light.

He put the bell away into a secure belt. He wouldn’t want to make another mistake of losing his bell. Others uttered their miracle prayers through their own lips and voice while he relied only on the sound of the bell. It was the sole object used by the luminary of voice for generations. Ironic for a luminary like him to hold the title of the voice despite being a mute.

“This is easy.”

“Shut your mouth!”

The knights threw jokes and encouragement around. Luther was relief seeing his men working well despite the daunting eyes of the abyss around them. Again, he was lucky to receive their trust in a voiceless captain.

Suddenly, the sinners turned their backs away and escaped through the small cracks on the wall. A roar erupted, sending a strong quake. The walls trembled. Stones fell down from their heads. A stone wall shattered in front of them, revealing a hidden path behind it. Goosebumps raised all over his body. An ominous presence beyond the open path crushed his feeble mortal flesh. Some knights fell down on their knees, holding their chest. Breaths came out short and rapid. Luther rang his bell again. He chanted out a short and quick prayer.

Protect the voices of my people.

Blue light covered their bodies in a blanket. It calmed them down. A deafening silence soon replaced the roar.

Luther glanced from the path to his knights. It would be a wise choice to turn back from where they came from. Before he gave the order to Vincent, screams dug deep into his ears. He shielded his ears with his hands. The high-pitched sound was chopping off his ears, splitting his head.

“Captain!” Vincent stood beside him. “Is the the voices?”

None of them heard the screams. Only the luminary of voice did. The screams came from deep within the path before him. Screams of mortals from men and woman; young and old. They pleaded help for anyone who could hear them. Are there captured mortals inside this hell? It could be a trap, but he cannot ignore their voices?

Listen to their voices. Deliver their prayers to the heaven’s above.

That was the oath he took when he became the luminary. An oath he must never break or the heaven will stop hearing his miracle prayers.

*     *     *     *     *     *

A bone snapped under her feet. Bones from mortal to animals scattered throughout the path. From the day the beast felled by the luminary, Dragon’s Slumber became homes to the lawless. She touched the wall. One could not recognize it as a dragon. Rag’thoran once devoured the land. Now it was his turn to be devoured.

Rag’thoran was a remnant of her forgotten past. Beyond the first awakening, she had no recollection of the old events. When she learned about the beast being created by own hands, she didn’t believe it. How could her fire create another life? And it was a demonic life. If those events truly happened, she could only imagine the cruel things she did to earn such hatred and fear from the mortals.

Stop! The butterflies cut her thoughts off from digging too deep into a lost memory. Don’t think past it.

“Agreed.” She pulled her hand away from the wall.

Ethel continued to venture deep inside. Last time she saw the mortals, they entered a different path. She hoped the fate won’t string their fates inside this maze.

A light illuminated at the far corner of the hall. Then, a stench smell invaded her nose. She placed a hand on her nose. If only she couldn’t smell too.

Her footsteps threaded the bones. She peeked at the corner to find a sight that made her stomach churned. Mortals lined up from the bottom to the ceiling. Sinners wore the mortal’s skin like a pair of clothes. Cursed for turning their backs against the light, the lesser sinners lost the reflection of their shell. Now envied by the mortals’ perfection flesh, they stole it. A thief stealing a jewel they once gave up for another.

The sinners marveled at the collection. They picked and fought who gets to wear the soft, peach skin of a young woman. Ethel stood behind them. Her hand reached above their heads. “Scums.”

Her shadow grabbed theirs. She wrung their souls, draining every sin they’ve committed out from their souls. They clawed at the skin they wore, tearing it apart as they begged beneath her feet. She made sure they didn’t die immediately. Ethel twisted their shadows back and forth before ripping them. She let out a shaky breath when she was done.

“I’m not different from them,” she looked at her pale hands.

A metal clanked inside a cage caught her attention. Ethel went closer to inspect. A naked mortal man hid at the far edge of his cage in a fetal position. Iron chains cuffed his feet, sealing his fate in this hell. Eyes never leaving the sight to the ceiling.

“My prayers…” he whispered, “why won’t the Gods listen to them? Did my prayers reached to the throne? The sky…yes, the vast blue jewel throne. Where is it?”

He’s beyond help. Ethel reached out to his shadow. Madness took over his mind. Sparing his life won’t do any good for him. At least he would be free from the nightmare once she killed him.

“My prayers must reach the heaven. My prayers.”

The shadow made a contact on his. Before twisting the head, a tear rolled down and he let out a faint relief of sigh. “The heaven heard me.”

Crack!

The mortal body became limp. Eyes clouded in white. He stopped his prayers. Ethel shut her eyes close.

The mountain quaked by a sinister laughter. Within the shadow of the hallway, she felt a pair of red bloodlust eyes watching her from afar, beckoning her to come closer, mocking her on its throne.

Author's Note

Looking forward to update Chapter 11 tomorrow.