Gatekeepers Book 1: Darkness
Dragonscript

Draycos awoke with a start and sat up instantly upon waking. He had just experienced some very vivid dreams of his past and felt uneasy because of them.

His stomach growled loudly, demanding attention. Hunger pains wracked his torso as he curled up in a ball on the bed. He had managed to get some food in his belly before he was knocked out, but he ended up throwing it all up after that fight with the damn thug....

“Huh?” Draycos muttered aloud as he reached that point in his train of thought. He padded down his chest, checking for any signs of broken bones or pain. He knew he had broken a few ribs from that kick he got nailed with, but there was no pain at all, aside from his hunger pains. He seemed to have been completely healed overnight as he slept.

Did the king come here and use that spell from before on me again? He shook his head at this thought. No, it probably wasn’t him. I can imagine how busy a king of dragons would be with the situation I’ve gotten myself involved in. Someone else must’ve done it.

His clothing had also been changed during his sleep. Draycos now wore a sleeveless black shirt made of a semi-soft fabric, and his tattered jeans had been replaced by blue pants of a similar fabric to the shirt. The pants were held up by a brown sash wrapped around Draycos’s waist and tied off to the side, the extra length of the sash hanging from his left hip.

The smell of food assaulted his nostrils. Looking around, Draycos spotted a picture of water and two full bowls of the meaty mush from yesterday placed on a wooden table behind the head of his bed. Ravenous, Draycos grabbed both bowls of mush and devoured them quickly, finally putting an end to his stomach’s loud protests of recent mistreatment. Thirsty, he grabbed the picture by the handle and downed about a whole gallon of water in one go, washing down the mush. Bringing the picture back down on the end table with a loud clack, he gave a large sight of relief as he laid back down on the bed, feeling satisfied for the first time since Atlantis City was bombed.

Come to think of it, I still haven’t been able to figure out anything about those guys I saw in the city after the bombing. I wonder whose orders they were following....

Draycos puzzled over it for a minute before giving up and burying his face in the pillow. It was no use; he didn’t have nearly enough information to make any guesses as to what actually happened. As he laid there with his head buried in the pillow, his ears picked up on an odd scratching sound. His curiosity aroused, Draycos looked beyond the edge of the bed for the first time and saw he was in a small cell with rock walls. The magically resistant crystals were visible but remained dull and unlit due to the lack of magic in the cell. The barred cell door was slightly ajar, and Draycos could make out the prison warden’s office through the bars of the door.

Getting up from the bed, Draycos walked to the door and gently pushed it open, the door creaking loudly as it swung on its metal hinges. He was indeed in Poseidon’s office, his cell door placed in the wall to the right of the fireplace burning with sea-green flames. Poseidon himself was sitting at his desk doing paperwork, exactly as he was when Draycos first saw him.

Upon hearing the creaking door, Poseidon looked up from his desk and noticed Draycos standing next to the fireplace. His expression brightened up.

“I see that you’re finally awake,” Poseidon commented as Draycos approached the desk. “I was starting to worry a bit about you after a few hours passed and you still hadn’t regained consciousness. I trust that you found the food and new clothing to your liking?”

“Yeah, I’m very grateful for the food. I was on my last legs there; I hadn’t eaten in two days.” Draycos looked Poseidon in the eye. “How long was I out?”

“Almost eighteen hours,” Poseidon responded. “It’s the morning of the day after your fight with that orc, Brock.”

“So that was an orc, huh? What happened to him?”

Poseidon snorted in amusement. “Well, after you broke his nose and he broke your ribs, I sent him off to solitary confinement for two days. Don’t worry, you’re not going to be punished for that fight,” he added as a worried expression crossed Draycos’s face. “All who witnessed the incident testified that it was Brock who instigated the fight. You won’t be held responsible.”

Draycos sighed in relief. “Good, I have enough crap on my plate as is. I can’t be making a good image for myself at this point; no need to make it worse.”

Poseidon personally agreed with that statement. He continued to speak of what he thought of over the night while trying to replace a solution to keep Draycos out of trouble.

“About that, Draycos. I think it would be in your best interest to stay in my office as much as possible for now on.”

“So as to prevent me from getting involved with the other prisoners to avoid causing any more scenes?”

Vertex was right. This kid had a good head on him.

Poseidon nodded. “Correct. That is what I had in mind for now. I realize that there won’t be much to do if you’re stuck in my office all the time, but I can perhaps make it worthwhile for you.”

“How so?” Draycos’s curiosity was evident.

Poseidon made a grand sweeping gesture to the entire office. “As you can see, I have a great deal of information compiled in here,” he started. “But even though I know where whatever information I need is located, if someone else needs to replace information, they’ll never be able to replace what they’re looking for.”

“Kinda like the stolen orb?” Draycos joked. Poseidon gave him a hard look. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself with that one,” he muttered.

“It’s interesting that you’re able to joke about that...,” Poseidon commented. “Anyways, I presume you can guess where I’m going with this conversation?”

“You want me to help organize all these documents and what-not?” Draycos guessed. It wasn’t that hard to figure out what the old dragon was hinting at.

“That’s right. I myself can never replace enough time to put aside for that task, so since it’ll be best to keep you in here as much as possible, you might as well make yourself useful and help me around my office.

Since when did I go from convict to office assistant? Draycos shook his head as he noticed a problem with the warden’s suggestion.

“I wouldn’t mind killing the time helping you here, but there’s one problem I don’t think you completely overlooked: how am I supposed to organize everything if I can’t even read what they say?”

It was true; a scrap of parchment left forgotten at the bottom of Poseidon’s desk was covering in ink markings that Draycos couldn’t make heads or tails off. Each and every marking started with a thick, diamond-shape inkblot which sides curved in from each point. If Draycos’s guess was right, it was probably where the ink-covered talons of a dragons first started to write the character. It then proceeded to move out in different directions, based on what character each marking was part of. It strongly reminded Draycos of the dragon language from that famous open-world RPG where the character had the blood of dragons flowing through their veins and ran around shouting in the language. He even though he noticed one of the most famous dragon words from that game that meant ‘force’ but was initially mistaken after taking a second look.

“There’s quite a simple solution to that problem,” Poseidon said, interrupting Draycos’ thoughts. “You’ll just have to learn to read and write in our language.”

“Ha?” Draycos was surprised. “You can’t be serious! And how are you going to teach me anything if you’re so wrapped up in your work that your office is a mess?”

“Who said that I was going to teach you our Dragonscript?” Poseidon asked. “I’ve already arranged for a mentor to teach you.”

“Ha?!”

A knock came from the door. “Poseidon, I’m here,” a masculine voice called from the other side of the door.

Poseidon grunted. “Perfect timing. Come in!”

The door opened, and Draycos saw a male dragon who was so small that he had to fly up to the door handle to open the door. The next thing Draycos noticed was that this dragon was straight-up jacked; all the muscles in the body stood out like a bodybuilder’s, but not so much so that any veins were visible. His entire body was a pale blue, with an even paler blue underbelly and white wing skin. Unlike the rest of the dragons Draycos had seen to this point, this one wore some clothing. He wore a pair of brown leather work trousers, and various tools and knickknacks hung from the two tool belts hanging at his waist. A pair of goggles with blue lenses rested atop his head, and three thin leather straps were buckled around each of his bulging biceps, the excess leather sticking up into the air from the back of his arms. His tail was tipped with a viscous-looking sharp black membrane, like a double-sided scythe, and the dragon’s white talons were dirty and covered in soot. A fluffy white fur cloth covered in dark stains was hanging around his bulging neck. If Draycos could compare this dragon to a job back in his world, this guy would be a handyman.

“You must be Draycos,” the dragon guessed as he landed on the floor and walked over to Draycos’s position. Draycos’s head only reached up to the newcomer’s abdomen as the dragon stopped short in front of him and extended an open hand in friendly greeting. “The name’s Zero Vizard; nice to meet ya.”

“Likewise,” Draycos responded, lifting his hand up to reach the one Zero extended. He was happy to meet a dragon that was friendly with him from the get-go.

“Better watch yourself, Draycos,” Poseidon suddenly warned him in a low growl just before Draycos’s hand made contact with Zero’s. “This guy’s into other males. He had more than one reason to volunteer himself when I asked for someone to teach you Dragonscript, if you catch my drift.”

Draycos instantly understood what the old dragon hinted at. Alarmed, he instantly retracted his hand and quickly backed off until he reached the wall behind him, which he quickly plastered himself to.

Zero stood there with a somewhat disappointed expression as his hand still hung in the air for a never-to-be handshake. He eventually sighed and lowered his hand. “Aww, why’d you have to go and ruin the chance I had, Poseidon?” he moaned, casting a quick glare at Poseidon.

Draycos went pale as this confirmed what Poseidon had said. “Don’t even try it,” he coldly warned Zero. “What the hell were you about to do just now?!”

Zero smiled and stuck his tongue out. “It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if I told you.” This made Draycos even more uncomfortable with the current predicament, and he pressed himself harder up against the wall behind him.

“I’ll only tell you this now: I have absolutely zero interest in what you’re envisioning, you perv! If you ever try anything, I will take aggressive actions!”

“Oh, so you like it rough, huh?” Zero teased.

“Zero, that’s enough of that,” Poseidon demanded as Draycos went stark white in the face. “I didn’t call you out here to give Draycos a hard time; I want you to teach him Dragonscript.”

Great, even Poseidon’s making queer jokes now.

Poseidon sighed and looked over at Draycos. “I know this might be uncomfortable for you, but Zero’s going to be teaching you Dragonscript for the time being.

“Like hell he will!” Draycos shouted. “How come you had to pick the gay dragon to teach me?!”

“Because he was the only one who said he’d be willing to teach you when I was asking around for a mentor,” Poseidon responded.

Draycos groaned. That’s when Zero began to laugh heartily.

“Poseidon, I think we’ve teased the poor kid enough,” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. “Relax, Draycos; we were only joking. We dragons need a good laugh every now and then, and you were just a perfect target since you’re so serious all the time.”

Really? Draycos remained glued to the wall as the two dragons broke out into more laughter. How long am I going to have to deal with this nonsense?